Set Aflame
by Weaselle7
Summary: Her twin's death snatches away the happiness from her life. Umbridge and her Ministry things strike out a fire of wrath. The Weasley Twins' prank stuffs begin a spark of rebellion, and with Cecillia Diggory falling for one of them, her heart burns with emotions. Sequel to "More Than Just Friends", takes place on OoTP.
1. Sparks of Aftermath

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to J.K. Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame**  
By: Weaselle7

Chapter 1  
_Sparks of Aftermath_

Her body trembled with the need of Madam Pomfrey's potion. She was tired of her nightly nightmares and restless sleeps; at the same time desperate for the non-existent solution. She tossed herself around her bed, tossed the echoes of her nightmares away. She did this every single night since the summer holiday started. The hypnotizing monotone coo of Aguilo's was the only thing she hung to. If it wasn't because of his peaceful sound, she might drown again in her sea of nightmares; down, down and down to the abyss of her insanity. When she heard of his coo, it felt like she was afloat on the surface of salty water of the sea, it felt like she was washed by the warm ray of sun on her cheeks, it felt like she was sane. She must have listened of the animal's coo for more than hours she felt like she was slowly lulled to sleep.

The next thing she realized was the silent _shizz _and the warm summer morning sun on her eyelids. Vague images flashed through her head, as vague and as hollow as the white substance that came out from the tip of McGonagall's wand just last June; only hers was black. She didn't have a nightmare, she supposed. If everything was blurry inside her head, she knew that she must have woken up half an hour once last night. Her mother had enchanted her curtains to open by itself every morning. If she hadn't, it was either Cecille's room would probably got befouled or her mother would have to open it herself and witnessed how her daughter had cried to sleep. And it wasn't a good idea. Cecille turned around, facing the walls, obscuring her sight from the morning ray.

Apparently there was a nonverbal noise that startled her, a fierce knock on her glass window. She opened her eyes and a dragon egg-like shadow laid on the wall in front of her with blurry outlines. She rolled over her bed and approached her window where a dirty brown owl was hanging on the border of her window. She opened her window and incidentally shoving the owl off (though she knew the owl was just a bird, she was still feeling annoyed of being disturbed), resulting the rude owl to perch on her desk and apparently avenged her by messing around. The bird spilled off her azul ink bottle that made her wooden desk to turn all near-black navy and practically soaked her Potion summer paper into illiteracy. She didn't really mind. The bird was still a bird, and that was how nature worked after you shove an innocent owl abruptly off your window. Plus she hadn't even completed a paragraph; starting off again from zero wouldn't do her much trouble.

It wasn't the end of the trouble-maker owl's raid. It walked through her desk, leaving its thin avis footprints across the table, began to eat her small cold-already apple pie and basically befouled her room with apples. She didn't mind that too. She didn't want to eat it too and it was good to see somebody (or something) was actually still enjoying it. The owl ate with one of its leg extended to her, itching to be freed from the knot. She untied it and opened the small parchment; Alicia's reply.

_Hi Cecille, _

_I hope my cousin's owl didn't bite you. He's quite a violent and glutton beast, but he does a great job if your house is surrounded with gnomes or mischievous fairies. My owl didn't come back after I sent her to Fred and George, I'm starting to get worry about my owl (and I'm wondering what happened to them). But I suppose she'll be alright if she's with them, I heard Ginny, their youngest sister, is fond of animal. I think she wouldn't let them hurt my owl. _

"Oh, they wouldn't hurt your owl. Just secretly making your owl either suddenly unable to fly or awfully-oriented because Fred and George test their Aging Potion or other pranks on it." Cecille thought.

_Angie doesn't reply my letter too since last two weeks. By the way, I'm rotting here with my summer paper. Can you believe they actually give us homework for summer holiday? I know we had one stupid summarizing four years ago, but all we did was just summarizing. You're lucky you dropped History of Magic last year. Healer is a very good future compared to some lunatic job in the Ministry that requires you to enlist the laws of goblins during the age of Carganuk the Goblin. I bet your Potion paper is not that nasty. _

_Secretly wishing you know the answer and hoping you will be so kind to tell me, _

_Alicia. _

Cecille smiled at the parchment and chuckled. She remembered her father used to help Cedric (her chest ached a bit) to do his winter paper about Goblin's Revolution. There must be something about this Cigarette-nuk the Goblin in that book. She decided to help Alicia (she was used with putting her friends before her. She usually helped Fred and George's essays while she cared nothing for hers.)

Rumbling in the stomach, Cecille climbed the staircases down and headed to the kitchen. A delicious smell of bacons and eggs greeted her and made her mouth to water.

"Morning Mum, Dad." she greeted and glid swiftly to her favorite spot of the dining table. She refused to think anything that had something to do with the reason two of the chairs were unoccupied.

They ate in silence. She remembered how the unnatural glum silence gnawed her soul on her first day of summer holiday. It was a tacit agreement that none of them would be discussing anything about Cedric. Well, everything was tacit ever since; every topic was fragile, nothing was discussed. The next hour Dad was off to work, followed by Mom who floo'd away to the St. Mungo an hour after. Cecille then entered the reading room and began to scan the shelves. The books weren't arranged in any particular order; mainly because she used to read them and put them back anywhere she could see spare spaces. Dad didn't read often now and if Mom wanted to read, she simply summoned one. Cecille read any book that caught her eyes (she didn't usually look for a specific book like now), so unarranged books didn't bother her. So Cedric was the most troubled one. But nothing could trouble him now, was there?

She run her fingers along the dusty bindings of books with variant thickness. Most of them were leather. She let the texture run smooth on her fingers until she felt the tip of her index finger numb. She didn't remember the shape of the book she was searching, not even the color nor the title. Some of the books she found had no title engraved on their bindings so Cecille needed to pulled them and checked the cover. Some even had no title on the cover, only a plain leather cover, she had to check the front page. She even found one that was written in ancient runes she knew at once it wasn't the book she was looking for.

She flinched when a deep scarlet leather book caught her sight. The book from the Mad-Eye Lunatic Beastly Criminal Moody. McGonagall told her all about it last year, including how Moody wasn't really Moody. She supposed the fake Moody was convincing Cedric that he wasn't (but he was) that scary or he wanted to show sympathy (Cecille doubted he could sympathize) because he worked for the Ministry (Cecille needed not to question his allegiance now) and he knew about Charlie. She was glad someone explained everything to her; she might be wondering forever to her madness why was the murderer of her eldest brother there in her school. All the shattered pieces of the puzzle were united there, creating a horrible and painful reality.

The Potion book from fake Moody, on the other side, had been donated to Hogwarts Library by Cecille. She didn't see any point of ripping it into pieces, seeing it had actually helped Fred, George and Lee with brewing an Aging Potion.

But this one? She wanted to pull the book and rip it, pages by pages, to burn it, to bury it, to Disintegrate it. They were completely common books; she could find a pile of them at Diagon Alley. She removed them from the shelves and smashed them hard against the walls.

Cecille cursed under her breath and took no further notice of the books. She began to scan the shelves again and ended with no result. She decided to search on her parents' room later. She knew there were more piles of books of Mom's and if she insisted to search by herself, her parents' room might end like it was being struck by a mad Chimaera. As for now, she remembered she found a thick book that must be one of the books Mom had studied for her healing education.

Cecille climbed the stairs and headed to her room. The bird was there no more. When she peered from her window, she saw the owl was having so much fun with the gnomes. She didn't know about the gnomes at the Spinnets but the owl must be facing tough opponents here. Gnomes were basically smart and quick-learning; they must have learnt something about how to avoid Charlie's bat and Cedric's agile fingers. It took her some moments to disenchant her from the vain wish to relive the sweet memories.

She worked on her paper all day long. She had cleaned all the mess with Mom's householding utensil that apparently was able not just only to clean up the stained stuffs but also to absorb all of the spilled inks so that Cecille could retrieve it back to the bottle.

She dropped down to have her dinner (it actually hurt with the fact that she would be spending her summer holiday _alone_) and got back to her paper. It was until midnight when she felt extremely thirsty and she walked down silently to drink. That was when she thought she heard her parents were talking in rather too loud voices. She couldn't help but heard a piece of their conversation.

"I didn't say he's a crazy old coiner or something!" That must be Dad.

"Then join!" a feminine voice replied, Mom.

"Reliving the secret alliance with him with the Minister's eyes following me in the back, waiting me to-"

"Amos-"

"His name isn't that glorious now as it sounds to you now if you spend your life at the Ministry."

She tiptoed closer to the door; leaning her back on the wall beside the door. The whole house was dark and she could see bright light found a way out from the little space between the floor and the door.

"I know it well enough through my life in St. Mungo, thank you."

"I hope you understand the situation is uglier in the Ministry."

"Our sons died in the hand of that beastly ruthless-"

"Don't you even get me to start with it."

"Isn't this the moment you've waited to avenge Voldemort?" The voice of her mother drew her closer to the locked door. She had completely forgotten about her drink. Her thirst for information outnumbered her thirst for water.

"If I get caught and lose my job-"

A click escaped from the door knob and Cecille jumped. She bolted up to her room and closed the door behind her; literally sank in an ocean of thoughts.

* * *

She didn't sleep that night, not even a blink to rest. The echo of her parents' argument didn't fade, they were as clear as a recorded conversation. She had gathered very few information.

_He who? Why is this 'he' thought to be a silly irrational coiner? What has this 'he' something to do with Voldemort? What secret alliance? How can this 'crazy old coiner' help us to avenge Voldemort? Surely Voldemort's name brings chills to anyone who heard of it, but how could this 'he' has a bad reputation to the Ministry, if he's about to make a secret group of people to avenge Voldemort? _

Cecille didn't have the nerve to ask for the book of Goblin's Revolution on the next morning. Both of her parents looked like they were so tired for a night full of arguing. Their eyes looked so tired and hollow and there were dark circles beneath their eyes. She wouldn't want to bother them.

She got back to her paper and drowned herself into the ocean of quill scratches. She was still wondering about her parents' conversation. A knock penetrated the wood board of her door and followed by a dimmed voice of a tired woman.

"Dinner is ready, sweetie."

"Cool. I'm coming Mom." Cecille replied, carefully slipping a piece of parchment to mark the page and stormed down.

They ate in silence, as usually. But Cecille could clearly see, a kind of expression that was on McGonagall's face the dawn she encountered Crouch, was carved on Mom's face. And she ate faster than ever too. Dad, on the other side, shoved more salad to his plate than his usual portion. Cecille could sense a tiny voice within her whispered a faint hypothesis; that Mom was so eager to talk about something, and Dad was so eager to live this moment forever if it meant he wasn't going to hear her wife's lecture.

That narrowed her list of possible topic down to a sole result; that secret alliance again.

Cecille finished her plate, put her plate on the sink and tidied the table. Mom stormed to her room and Dad took time to make a cup of tea (and effectively killing one minute). Cecille languidly climbed up to her room, she didn't want to make her footsteps swallowed the whispers of the rising topic, and at this point she was too exhausted with her Potion paper anyway.

When she heard vague voices, she headed downward silently. She hated to eavesdrop; it made her feel guilty within herself, but most of all, feel strangely responsible of the secret she had overheard. Not to mention this eavesdropping mission had something to do with Voldemort, The Ministry of Magic and practically Dad's job.

And it was somehow the place where her curiosity rose. It was said by Mom that by joining in we could avenge Voldemort. Well, who doesn't want to avenge Voldemort in their right mind (though they shouldn't have to be the twin of a Voldemort's victim himself)?

"I _don't_ understand, Amos." a high-pitched voice snapped. A voice Mom would always use if she was feeling offended or facing a moronic argument.

"No. _I _don't understand." Dad spat back.

"Dumbledore himself had offered it to us!" Cecille's pulse leapt rapidly. Now it was all about Dumbledore, the best wizard in the Wizarding World, Voldemort, devil of all devils, Ministry, and must be their well-developed vain wishful theory that Voldemort wasn't returning. "We just need to come back!"

Coming back, Dumbledore, secret alliance. Her parents must have been in _that_ terms before.

"And that may be the reason why I couldn't get off of annoying unannounced examination and particularly that Weasley boy secretary of Fudge!" Dad said. It was a long dialogue for a bickering, in which always preferable to Helena Diggory if she was about to backfire an equally-length argument about how many flaws her opponent had exposed. Cecille shuddered, Mom had never been this way since she was debating with an Auror about aunt Helga and Charlie's death.

"Bravery is always your truly weakness!" Mom yelled, apparently accepting the truth in Dad's earlier argument. A part of her wanted to flee from there and come back to her room. If Mom had yelled that way, it was a sign the topic was dangerous enough she would hex Cecille if she found out she was being bugged. Another part froze her feet with her swelling curiosity about this discussion, or bickering. Another part of her wanted to break into the room, stand between her parents and plead to end this bickering.

"As always patience is yours!" Dad fired.

"Patience! You tell me what are we waiting for! Voldemort to rule our world?!" she heard a scream and a killing sound of shattering china. She almost screamed herself to hear it.

"You tell me too what's so brave with this narrow-minded idea about practically forgetting to take care of what's left with your family!"

That one had really struck her. She gasped noisily (she cursed herself inwardly) and began to think that the prospect of this idea was rather equally dangerous. Stay alive safely -but horrified to death- with your family, or fight Voldemort to your final breath. She might choose the latter.

Her father's saying had taken her aback she didn't recognize loud, angry thumps came nearer to her. The door swung open with her mother breathing heavily with wrath. She was busted, she lost her breath.

"Cecillia!" she addressed Cecille in her full first name, meaning she must have been completely furious. "What are you doing here, dear? Aren't you supposed to be on your bed already?" she softened at the sight of her frightened daughter. Mom looked so much like her sister whenever Aunt Helga busted Charlie.

Cecille couldn't deny the fact she had overheard almost everything, nor could Mom deny her thundering yell was her fault Cecille couldn't contain her curiosity. Dad didn't look at her.

"I- I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to hear any of this." Cecille cowered and gulped, but buckled up. "But I want to join you." she said, addressing the statement to Mom. Cecille just thought she felt the greater impact of her twin's death than her Mom. She shook the selfish theory away.

"I'm afraid you're not old enough to do so." said Mom flatly, which Cecille took as a caring tone whilst she was completely rage. She was about to object and started complaining that she was seventeen already, thus making her legally 'old-enough' to do so. Dad looked at her, either confused or amused or amazed. Cecille threw him a sincere apologetic look.

"But Mom-"

"Go to your room." said Dad.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, le sequel's up! :D Is that a terrible opening? Review and feedback are highly welcome, and more appreciated if you send it with no flame or sugarcoating *put on wide puppy eyes* The first fanfic is under major revision now, because it took time a bloody year to complete a nineteen chapter story (*smacking my head against the wall like Dobby*) and I start to realize some flaws in it as I grow up.


	2. Order of The Phoenix (part 1)

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to J.K. Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame**  
By: Weaselle7

Chapter 2  
_The Order of The Phoenix_ (part 1)

Cecille scurried to her room upstairs and almost slammed her door off the frame. Her temper went off the roof so quickly she felt her brain was being smacked against the inner side of her skull. Of course she understood she shouldn't have eavesdropped them and things. But why couldn't she join them? She was seventeen already; legally of age. It was _her_ twin that just died last month. She didn't even know why'd her throat narrow when she was about to argue.

She squeezed the hem of her shirt so tightly, trying to calm herself down as wild ideas popped in her mind. She winced. Her wand laid still in her pocket; she wouldn't want to touch it if she didn't want her room to be set in fire.

She crawled up to her bed helplessly, her feet seemed like they were unable to support the weight of her thoughts. She shivered as she smashed her skull against the soft pillow. Her mind echoed _why_s again and again that her head throbbed. She sank down in her exhaustion, drowned slowly in hurt and fell asleep.

Well, she wasn't actually sure she was asleep. She opened her eyes almost immediately and found herself lying not in her bedroom but strangely curled into a ball inside her fireplace. She could see the pieces of the night sky with glittering stars through her window. She knew it, she knew this place, even though she could only recall pieces of them, because she hadn't lived there for quite a time to let her young brain memorize every single details.

She rose to her feet and the obscured inside view of her old house came to her eyesight. _This is it, _she said to herself. Tears escaped from her eyelids, tears of joy, tears of waiting, and her lips curled into a wide smile. She could see her old dining room. But she could feel the emptiness within the atmosphere, the hole inside the scene, like she knew what was going to happen. But she refused to admit it, she refused to accept it.

Until the burst of green light lit the night, but there was no warm feeling like one you got when you watched the sunrise. Terror and daring seized her, she crept to the window and the Dark Mark shone blindingly in the sky. When she turned away, she saw her aunt and brother's corpses. She screamed, but it wasn't her voice that came out from her throat. It was Mom's scream when she saw her sister and son laid down lifelessly there.

And then her eyelids fluttered open. She found herself lying on her bed, drowned in sweats and had trouble breathing. The sun hadn't risen yet and she was wallowing herself in the aftermath of her hundredth nightmare until the dawn broke.

She heard the wooden floor echoed the sound of footsteps. Someone turned the doorknob and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Breakfast is ready, Cecille." she heard Mom said. Contrary to the light announcement, there was a tone of urgency in her voice. With fear, Cecille tried to act as normal as possible, opened her eyes and looked as sleepy as she could. But Mom wouldn't get fooled, she knew her daughter had been thinking about something she'd succeeded to eavesdrop all night long.

"Okay." said Cecille shortly and stifled a fake yawn. She stretched her body and walked down to the dining room. Dad was reading the Daily Prophet and didn't show any sign of sensing his daughter's arrival.

"Wow, toast." Cecille said, trying to ease the atmosphere, though she couldn't help but added the sarcastic tone which she immediately regret. She pulled out her favorite chair and sat watching the moving photograph of Sirius Black. "Are we run out of dandelion jam?" she asked.

"I just bought some yesterday. They're in the cupboard in the kitchen." said Mom, taking a seat next to Dad.

"No. Helena, you get it for her." said Dad shortly. He set down his newspaper, revealing a photograph of her Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, under the vertically-mirrored bold headline she couldn't proceed to read. "I want to talk to her." Dad added and stared into Cecille's eyes.

"I know Dad." she started tentatively and gulped. "I'm sorry - I know I was wrong and impolite and-"

"No, don't apologize." Dad cut shortly. She looked at her father questioningly, ignoring the knife that was enchanted to spread the dandelion jam on her toast. "It's not your fault if you were so curious or so itching to fight You-Know-Who." said Dad.

"But in the other hand," Dad continued before Cecille could interrupt, "You're not old enou-"

"Dad, I'm seventeen-"

"Correction. You still have a year on Hogwarts and two years of Healer education, if you still so desire the position." Dad explained.

"Girl like her, Amos, I'd be surprise if she needs more than a year to complete the training school." said Mom and smiled. Cecille couldn't help but noticed the hidden message. Dad stared at Mom in a way she associated with the way Alicia looked at Lee. "Just saying."

"But still, only highly competent wizards who are physically and mentally ready can join." said Dad, turning back to Cecille. "There'll be some things that must be paid with death. You-Know-Who's followers didn't take our old house and killed your aunt without any intention."

The awkward silence seized the air and suddenly she couldn't stop replaying her parents' last fight. She tried to put each pieces of information in the right place and figured out the shattered picture.

"So, it's true..." she said rather to herself. "You two had been a member."

"And it needs more than an hour of arguing for this crucial decision, remembering how half of our small family-"

"Can't we just go straight to the point?" said Mom snappishly. "I'm sure our daughter is aware of things that happened around her."

Dad sighed before he said to Cecille.

"This isn't something for you to broadcast, Cecille. As a matter of fact, you shouldn't have heard of our underground activity." said Dad. Cecille couldn't choose -between irritation and guilt- that she felt right now. Cecille raised her eyebrows. "But your Mom and I had chosen to join."

"Oh..." she said, missing the cheery tone because she wanted to join so badly. "That's- that's good." said Cecille and forced out a smile. She felt abandoned and underrated although she knew her parents just wanted her to be safe.

"We'll have to meet Dumbledore." said Mom shortly. She turned to Cecille and smiled encouragingly. "You and Dumbledore will have a bit of a talk."

"What - Me?! Why?" Cecille asked, bewildered. She imagined herself having an intense talk with Dumbledore about being expelled from Hogwarts instead of some big secret about this underground organization that involved her family.

"I'm sure that's what Arthur's children do." said Dad and he let out a long sigh. He summoned a piece of parchment, his jet-black raven quill and a bottle of ink. "Six sons and a daughter, I'd be surprised none of them had discovered about this."

"Hang on." Cecille muttered as she remembered when Dad refered to one of his children as Fudge's secretary. "But you said one of them is Fudge's secretary. It's hard to keep such big secret when you're in a close term with the Minister, isn't it?"

"I know Arthur." said Dad, shrugging hopelessly. "I know where he laid his faith. I don't know much about what happened between him and his third son. But judging how they look at each other at the Ministry, Arthur seemed to have disowned him." said Dad as he shuddered.

Cecille gasped. Percy? Cecille knew Percy well enough. He'd caught her doing mischief, given her detentions, and docked 20 points from her at his anger when she, Fred and George tailed him and transfigured his essay into a frog (before it hopped around the Common Room, made the girls shrieked in disgust and made one of the girls threw the frog out of the window). But to acknowledge Percy to do something that made him abandon his family was the last thing to ever come to her mind. She thought Percy did it all to make his parents proud.

"That's completely awful." Cecille muttered after a moment. "Percy. That prick."

"Oh, I have an impression that this is just the beginning." said Dad gloomily. He rose from his seat after scrambling a quick brief note and tied it to his owl. He let the owl find its own way out the house while Mom rushed to the kitchen, wand in hand, muttering a long spell.

She spent the rest of the day alone in her house. Dad finally gave her the history book Cecille had been searching for days. After her third attempt to duplicate the pages (she duplicated the whole book on her first two attempts), she attached the pages along with her reply onto Alicia's owl. The owl flew away after bit her index finger -Cecille thought- in a way it thought as a friendly way. But when the bird had reached the sky, it looked like something had whipped its wings and fell helplessly to the ground.

Cecille raced downstairs and rushed for the owl. Despite its vicious behavior, the owl let out a painful screech before looking at Cecille pleadingly. Cecille examined the bird and found out it had broken its two wings. _This is weird, _Cecille said to herself, gazing all around the sky, _what has hurt it?_

Cecille raised her wand. "Periculum!"

The spark shot to the air and hit an invisible shield. The shield glistened like the surface of a potion, the ripple ebbed from the spot where the spark hit it down to the ground in a curving line; divulged the existence of an invisible gigantic bowl that was set up above her head. Cecille stood there, amazed, for a few moments, wondering how she could still feel the summer hot wind brushed her hair.

"Protective spells." a voice from the doorframe said. Cecille spun around and found Mom was standing at the porch step with Alicia's owl on her shoulder, still in her green lime Healer robes. "I need to prevent you to broadcast everything you've heard from us before you talk to Dumbledore."

"How did you tame it, Mom?" Cecille asked, changing the topic.

"Found a bowtruckle claw clung deep into its flesh. But aside from that, it's its temperament. It's all fine now, I healed it within a second, though I need to see the message." said Mom, stroking the owl's head gently. The bird let out a peaceful coo.

"Oh. Uhm-" Cecille hesitated. She asked Alicia about goblin ancient medical treatment in the letter. "Uh yeah, sure."

Mom knocked her wand gently on the owl's foot and seven pieces of parchments made their way floating in front of Mom. Mom swished her wand graciously to flip the parchments back and forth while examining them.

"You asked me where's Goblins and Wizards book for this?" Mom asked. She waved her wand, neatly packed the parchments and resealed them before tying them against the owl's foot. Cecille killed a minute thinking what kind of answer she'd come out with while playing with the gnomes.

"I- yeah." Cecille said and a 'please don't be mad' smile curved on her lips.

"At least you give her a chapter-length explanation. She'll need to squeeze her mind to find how Carganuk the Goblin arranged his laws." said Mom carelessly and set the owl free. She muttered a long spell quietly and Cecille could see how Alicia's owl escaped the shield and flew eastward.

"I need to get back though. I received the warning, when the owl hit the shield. I'll know if you're doing anything with the enchantment, young lady." said Mom, motioning to invite her daughter inside. Mom scooped a handful of Floo Powder and stepped inside the fireplace. "Oh, and I saw your unfinished Potion essay. Why don't you get upstairs and work it out instead of busying yourself with your friend's essays?"

With that, the tosca-esque flame engulfed her entirely and transported her back to St. Mungo. Cecille spent the rest of the day working her Potion essay with so much effort to focus her concentration. Her mind would flee back to her morning talk with her parents with that underground activity. One moment she found herself imagining how her life would be if she joined and fought dark forces.

When night came, Dad and Mom went back from their desks. A silent squeak came from their living room, followed by a loud thud similar to the noise of Diricawls. All of them scampered to the living room, finding a brief note in a very neat handwriting with a fiery long delicate feather.

"Oh!" Mom squealed as Dad walked gravely to take the note. "It's his phoenix, isn't it? I am actually touching its feather, _a phoenix_'s feather." Mom shrieked as she took the piece of a feather and placed it on her palms as if it was a fairy's egg.

"Calm down Helena, it's not an Erumpent's horn." said Dad as he saw his wife treating the feather like a fragile binding. "Phoenixes've got strong feathers, they can support the bird from weighing a unicorn." said Dad. Cecille peeked from Dad's shoulder to see the note, but, as if Dad had a pair of eyes under his hair, he pocketed the note.

"I know." said Mom as Cecille could see how Mom tried to hide her flushing face. "But it is said that there are only _two_ tail feathers ever donated from a phoenix for a wand core. Two, Amos, _two_!" said Mom in pure amazement, her face shone. "And I'm holding another feather."

"That doesn't look like a tail feather." Dad pointed.

"It's been fed the blood of immortality since Merlin-knows-when!" Mom squealed again, ignored Dad's argument. Mom stormed to her room, muttering something involving brewing an elixir from it.

"Go to your room before your Mom set this whole house in fire." said Dad. Cecille laughed but obeyed anyway.

* * *

**A/N: **I know you're wondering why on earth did I add "(part 1)" on the chapter title. Like I am willing to make a film. But no, I'm not that fab you know. I just wrote the whole thing and found out that it consisted of 4K (well, 5K actually, 4.9K) words aka too many words. I don't know if I am wrong about the standard length of chapters in fanfiction, but I just thought that 4K is too much, I don't want to make my reader get bored and close the tab in the middle of the chapter saying "omg i'm not even midway through". But I'll publish the second part immediately c:


	3. The Order of The Phoenix (part 2)

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to J.K. Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame**  
By: Weaselle7

Chapter 3  
_The Order of The Phoenix_ (part 2)

"Oh, I forgot you haven't passed your Apparition test yet." said Dad disappointedly on the next morning.

"Where are we going?" asked Cecille, gulping her milk.

"Minerva's old house." said Mom merrily. Mom was still in her cheery mood after finally finding out a phoenix's feather.

"McGonagall's?!" Cecille asked, panic and disbelief carved in her face. She had a scenario in her head where she would be talking with Dumbledore and McGonagall about kicking her out of Hogwarts with the help of McGonagall's explanation of her mischief.

"_Professor_ McGonagall's, yes." said Dad.

Cecille finished her breakfast with brief flashes of thoughts haunting her about being scolded for her mindless dream to join this secret association. She was even unconsciously arranging some well-reasoned counter opinions. Suddenly, she had the urge to owl Fred and George about this. They must've discovered about it anyway. She gazed up to the clear sky where the layer of invisible shield laid and gave her hope up.

"We'll be heading to the Diagon Alley." said Dad, scooping a handful amount of Floo Powder. He stepped into the fireplace and adjusted his glasses. "After me. _Leaky Cauldron_!"

Cecille took a handful of the powder, stepped inside the now-shrunk fireplace (she could still recall some faint memories when she first floo'd and she could hardly touch the fireplace ceiling) and took a deep breath. "_Leaky Cauldron_!" she said before pouring the powder violently against the fireplace floor.

The tosca-esque flame swallowed her and filled her with familiar euphoria. The next moment she was standing on one of the series of fireplaces at Leaky Cauldron; one of them had taken her, Mom and Cedric to their old house to learn about his aunt and Charlie's deaths. She couldn't help but notice how much her nightmare had relived the tragedy. Another burst of greenish flame disenchanted her from her sudden realization and Mom stepped out from the fireplace next to Cecille's.

"Okay, we'll take the Knight Bus." said Dad, leading his wife and daughter out of the pub. Cecille was glad the pub was nearly empty, despite the hot summer air that could fry them outside. It looked like nobody in their right mind fancied a glass of Butterbeer now. She could imagine if the pub was filled with wizards and they talked to them, sending condolences, which (in spite of their opinion that it was meant as a comfort) reopened the scar of her pitiful life.

Dad greeted the bartender warmly. Cecille and Mom's arrival behind Dad seemed to hold the bartender's attempt to send him some soothing words. They walked out of the pub and waited on the pavement. Dad extended his right arm and a loud explosion came from nowhere, bringing a three-stories-up bus along.

A youth in purple outfit that matched the bus, couldn't be more than twenty five years old, stepped out. "Welcome to the Knight-"

"We know, we know, thank you." said Mom briskly.

The three of them climbed up and took the nearest seat.

"You sell iced-tea here?" asked Dad as he swished the air around him to cool him down.

"Nah. But we sell hot chocolates." said the lad.

"You're kidding." Cecille muttered silently.

The trip took only ten minutes, and it felt strangely longer than how a ten minutes trip should be due to the violent turns the bus made. Cecille didn't know how the whole thing worked but she thought the bus actually apparated to certain requested places. Cecille watched, much to her amazement, that the bus managed to slow graciously when it was about to hit things. The last haphazard maneuver took them to the Hogsmeade and Cecille was really grateful she could feel the ground again.

"Okay. This way." said Dad, leading them to a small alley. She passed familiar inns and shops, saw Madam Rosmerta and Madam Puddifoot were having a girl talk inside the Three Broomsticks. She couldn't help but stopped for mere three seconds, looking hopefully into Zonko's Jokeshop, through the "CLOSED" board and almost forgot that she wasn't in her Hogsmeade weekend. They stopped right before a small house, only a size of the Three Broomsticks, and Mom knocked the door. McGonagall opened the door, but she didn't seem to notice Cecille when Mom flung forward to greet McGonagall.

"Good to see you again Minerva!" Mom squealed. "_Minerva_. I don't know how can I get used to say it, you're my former House Head, after all."

McGonagall let out the first warm laugh Cecille had ever heard. Just like women in common when they'd get to see each other.

"Good day, Minerva?" asked Dad casually.

"Well, compared to last week when they got Dumbledore voted out of Wizengamot, I'd say today's a good day, seeing you two again. Good to see you too, Helena." said McGonagall. "_Helena_. I don't know how can I get used to it, you used to be my house student."

She and Mom laughed, Dad watched the two of them as if cherishing some memories. Cecille stood there, unnoticed, staring at both disbelief and awkwardness as she imagined McGonagall talked warmly to a thirty years old of herself as if McGonagall had never given the detentions to her.

"Oh come in, please, come in. It's frying hot out there- Oh, Miss Diggory?" McGonagall seemed to notice her as if she had just apparated in.

"Morning, Professor." Cecille greeted awkwardly. Never in her mind she thought she would be with McGonagall and Dumbledore discussing about something aside from school matters.

"Oh yeah. Dumbledore's mentioned you last night, of course. Come in, come in." said McGonagall, almost in the tone Cecille determined as a tone she would use if she was about to invite Cecille into her office after successfully terminating the twins' prank.

But as soon as McGonagall closed the door behind her, Cecille could see her face turned dark, losing all the colors. The warm smile she had shown to Mom had faded and curved down to her usual pursed lips. McGonagall busied herself with anything to - in Cecille's theory - avoid looking at one spot for more than three seconds. Cecille tried the best to contain her curiosity towards the house that's filled with frames of moving photographs.

"Dumbledore's here?" asked Dad, doing himself a favor by taking a seat on the couch.

"He should be here any minute now." said McGonagall, apparently looked as if she had just remembered she wasn't home alone. "What would you like to drink? Tea? Juice?"

"Oh, don't worry, we won't be long." Mom said as she sat next to Dad. Cecille followed her.

"It'd be long once you talked to Dumbledore." McGonagall said and smiled.

"Oh. Okay. A cup of tea will do." said Mom.

McGonagall took her wand out, barely moving it, and five cups and a jug came out from nowhere. The jug and the cups filled themselves with tea. All of them took one, leaving the other for Dumbledore. Mom knocked her wand against the china and suddenly droplets of dew swelled like beads on the china's surface.

"The Order's changed much then?" asked Dad. Cecille was torn between drinking her tea and got rid of her thirst or listening to every ounce of information she could absorb.

"So much has changed, Amos." said McGonagall bitterly. Cecille felt sorry for the changes that were awful instead of improving. "You wouldn't even believe it-"

A silent pop found a way to penetrate the walls from the pavement outside. Dumbledore knocked the door and McGonagall jumped as if she had just seen her boggart jumping out of a drawer.

"Oh, there's Dumbledore." McGonagall muttered as she opened the door for Dumbledore. "Morning, Dumbledore. The Diggorys are here. What happened to your skin?"

"Oh, don't worry, just a bit of disguise while on travel. Although I think I'd like to keep them." said Dumbledore, coming from the doorway, looking slightly a bit more tanned. "Ah, Amos, Helena, Miss Diggory. So nice to meet you again."

He walked through the living room and settled himself on a couch next to the Diggorys, followed by McGonagall who sat next to him. Dad and Mom rose to shake his hand. Cecille, feeling so awkward and unacceptable, rose from her seat and shook hands with Dumbledore as well. She felt slightly embarrassed of acting casually awkward at such age. "Thank you for accompanying our guest when I'm away, Minerva."

"Oh, no problem." she said.

"Now. I must admit I am so happy to have you two on our side again." Dumbledore started. "In The Order of the Phoenix." he added to Cecille, smiling, as if he knew Cecille was so curious how they named the society.

"We are too." Mom responded cheerily.

"But, firstly, I want to make sure, Miss Diggory," he turned to Cecille now, "you are not here as the member of the Order of the Phoenix. But I personally think that you are old enough-" Cecille felt a rush of admiration towards Dumbledore for being the first to ever voiced their realization of her age "-for me to tell you some things s it's no one's but your twin, Cedric, who died in Voldemort's hand just last month."

The usual respond that followed after the mention of You-Know-Who's name showed, although not in the scale of her friends' jolting responses. Dad backed of slightly, covering the reflex by adjusting his sitting position. McGonagall looked at Dumbledore as swift as a cat when it caught a slight movement if its prey. Mom squeezed the couch pillow and Cecille found herself looking at Dumbledore as if she was seeking for protection. Cecille nodded. Dumbledore continued.

"There are several things I should inform you." he said, referring to the three Diggorys. "One involves with Sirius Black."

Mom choked before she could seized herself.

"Calm down, Helen." Dad comforted.

"He's not-?"

"Oh yes." Dumbledore answered, reading Mom's mind. "He's still with us."

Cecille, Mom and Dad sat there statued against the statement. Cecille wouldn't be surprised if Mom was about to yell that Dumbledore is mad for engaging a secret alliance with a murderer.

"I can hardly believe Sirius did that. I mean..." Dad started.

"Then, Amos, it has turned out that our fear is actually nothing more than a big fat lie." said Dumbledore sternly, almost comfortingly. "Sirius has taken the blame of Peter Pettigrew's-" Cecille didn't know who Peter Pettigrew was, but she could see the horror in her parents' faces "-crime of twelve muggles murder and has suffered twelve years for it in Azkaban. His innocence has protected him whilst surrounded by Dementors. Unfortunately, only a handful of people have been notified about this, and I'm afraid they are the ones in the Order. Now, as the last heir of the royal family of Black, Sirius gives his noble house to serve us as our Headquarters, namely Grimmauld Place Number 12."

"He gives his house? He has escaped Azkaban then?" asked Mom, her face showed amazement and horror and the same time. It was indeed amazing though, to Cecille, for someone to escape a prison like Azkaban, which also meant that there were possibilities for other criminals to slip out.

"Sirius, apparently," McGonagall took the turn to explain "has learnt the art of Transfiguration. He is an unregistered Animagus, along with his old fellow friend, Peter. He broke out from Azkaban in his dog animagus form. That's one of the reasons we have trouble explaining it to the Ministry to stop hunting for his head."

"Pettigrew. What a shame!" Dad suddenly said in disgust. "I thought they are friends."

"I believe that it's a personal thing between Sirius and Peter, which is not our concern." said Dumbledore with a comforting tone as if telling them to drop the conversation about Sirius. But Mom seemed to miss the impression and asked Dumbledore away.

"How do you know this, Sir?" she asked.

"Harry Potter himself has told me." Dumbledore said back to his usual deep tone. "The same boy who has verified the return of Voldemort and brought us together to fight him. Also, I found that all evidences can as well confirm the truth."

"Now, Miss Diggory," he turned to face Cecille. "Can we trust you this information so that you will not broadcast it to anyone out of the Order under any circumstances?"

Cecille stared at him, his half-moon glasses reflected her own shadow. Dumbledore, what Cecille thought would put a dead serious expression on his face, smiled at her understandingly.

"Of course, Sir." she said, not really caring if it wasn't the real fitting answer.

"And will you promise us to not ever discuss it to other people?" Dumbledore asked.

Cecille had to admit that she had trouble not to divulge all of her problems to her best friend. A rush of relief flowed within her as she thought of Fred and George. "I so swear" she said lightly in a challenging tone.

But, as if Dumbledore had figured out her wish to be a hero, he asked her for one more request.

"And finally, will you promise us that you will never attempt to take any part of the Order?"

Silence fell to the atmosphere. She could see McGonagall, Mom, and Dad were looking at her intensely, threatening her to say yes. A thought flashed to her mind, a faint whisper beat her eardrums. It was Cedric, reminding her to be careful every time she was doing something clumsy in classes when daring took control over her.

"I so swear."


	4. Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 4  
_Grimmauld Place Number 12_

"Oh, not again, Amos," said Mom in her usual tone when she found out her interlocutor was saying something ridiculous. "Not with that stupid Bus again!"

Turned out that Cecille wasn't the only one who would prefer anything to travelling with that wild Knight Bus. Mom wandered all around the kitchen, complaining about how the Knight Bus was an awful way to travel with anatomical explanation. Cecille ate fewer toasts than her usual portion, trying to fight her hunger so that at least she wouldn't throw up that badly on the Knight Bus. She conjured a plastic wrapping instead, packed the rest of her breakfast and pocketed them in her messenger bag.

"Helena, we _can't_ floo to Williamson's house. What are we going to say if he questions our arrival?" Dad tried to convince his wife patiently.

"You work at the Ministry. You know him, and he knows you. Why on earth he would question it?" Mom answered as she sighed helplessly, probably a sight of being smacked by a luggage during the chaotic ride flashed on her mind.

"Aren't we avoiding as much attention from the Ministry as possible?" Dad asked as-a-matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Fine," Mom snarled quietly. "But don't blame me if I throw up."

The Diggorys went to the Order's Headquarters that Sunday, just exactly the following day after they talked to Dumbledore yesterday. They dressed in muggle outfits (Dad was the only one who had trouble managing a normal muggle fashion), floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron, as usual, and took the Knight Bus right to the muggle (much to Cecille's surprise) housing called 'Grimmauld Place'. Cecille knew several facts about the Blacks, she tried to recall some of which she heard from her History of Magic classes, which seemed poorly possible. All she knew that the Blacks seemed to be a phrase that brought the air of respect to the atmosphere when mentioned (although all the impression she got from "Black" was literal blackness).

But there was no indication that the place belonged to a royal family, not with the grimy surrounding plus the unpleasant exterior of the muggle housing. There were tiny hills of muggle litters that were covered with plastic bags laid there few steps from each front step of each houses, except one house, which was the twelfth house. The house still got its gloomy aura like the other houses, but its front steps were clean. The three of them walked forward to the front steps with Mom and Dad swishing their wands for purposes Cecille didn't know.

Finally Dad stepped forward, knocked his wand against the black door and brought chains of metal clicks to life. After what Cecille thought as the last click, the door creaked slightly ajar.

"You first, Cecille," Dad said and Cecille entered the house, finding no reason to touch the serpent-like doorknob because the door was opened already. Cecille pushed the door instead, stepped inside and greeted with the _blackness _of the house. Other than a parch of light that found a way out from under the gap from the other end of the corridor, the house was solidly dark.

The door on the end of the corridor swung opened and a figure carrying a lighted wand rushed towards them.

"Oh! Amos, Helena! Dumbledore told us about you!" Mrs Weasley (Cecille saw her several times at Platform 9 3/4) cried, enveloped Mom in a friendly hug and gave Dad an enthusiastic handshake. "Your daughter?" Mrs Weasley turned to Cecille as if Cecille wasn't there the other second. Mrs Weasley gave her a welcoming look though she could see that Mrs Weasley wasn't expecting her arrival.

"The youngest," said Dad. It broke her heart slightly noticing how her Dad refused to say 'the only'.

"Can't leave her home alone," said Mom, apparently catching the same impression like Cecille. "Not after-"

Mom left the sentence hung there.

"I'm Cecillia Diggory," Cecille introduced herself after she thought Mom and Dad would let her introduce herself. "So nice to meet you, Mrs Weasley," she added and returned Mrs Weasley's smile.

Even in the semi-darkness (her eyes adjusted to the darkness), Mrs Weasley was so confident when she said "You look a lot like your mother" and shook her hands. "Oh, have Dumbledore told you the meetings are for the members only?"

"Oh yes, he did tell me," Cecille said and immediately found her stomach did a somersault at the thought she would be asking Mrs Weasley to hang with the twins. "I think I'll be with Fred and George."

"Oh yes, yes, of course. They are in the third floor, first door to your right," said Mrs Weasley, pointing at the third landing. "Come, I'll show you the room."

Cecille and Mrs Weasley climbed the staircases together, leaving Mom and Dad who seemed to be greeted by another Order member Cecille was dying to know. The light from Cecille and Mrs Weasley's wands were the only thing that lit their way, sometimes helped by the faint sunlight that struggled to penetrate the dirty windows every time they were on a landing.

"There's the room," said Mrs Weasley, pointing at the first door to their right. It sounded as if she had got no other option. "Strange. Usually their room is filled with explosions. Fred! George! You've got a friend waiting here!" she knocked the door rather violently and shouted in hushed whispers.

A long moment passed.

"Oh, you can get in anyway, that's okay, might keep them not sleeping all day," said Mrs Weasley, and Cecille stared at her in a confused look which Cecille doubted Mrs Weasley could see it.

"Oh, uhm, I can hang with Ginny, don't worry," Cecille politely refused, blushed in maroon shade as she pictured herself entering the room and finding the twins asleep. How she would deal with Ginny didn't really bother her.

"Oh, sure, sure," but there was something in her tone that caught Cecille's attention; between doubt, wonder and curiosity. "Her room is on the second floor, second door to the left."

Cecille saw Mrs Weasley left the third floor landing, motioning Cecille to come with her instead of leaving Cecille to find her way out herself. Reluctantly and awkwardly, Cecille followed Mrs Weasley climbing down the staircases. But only after two mere staircases, they heard a bell rang and suddenly the atmosphere was filled with ear-splitting unpleasant verbal curses.

"I told her!" she could hear faintly, Mrs Weasley's desperate moans. By seconds, Mrs Weasley had disappeared through the staircases, leaving Cecille there unconsciously absorbing the painful and cruel curses from the screams that filled the air. Cecille couldn't help but wonder who had the heart to spit all of those scary vocabs.

"You vile, worthless scum and warts! Vermin whose blood is filthier than toad's entrails! How dare you befoul my father's house-"

Another equally loud screech filled the air, came from (Cecille thought) Mrs Weasley.

"Shut up, you old hag! SHUT UP!"

Even Cecille, who had spent half of her life hanging with Fred and George (who frequently swore), had the hair on her nape standing in awareness; she shivered and winced. She wondered who had screamed all of those violent swearing, but judging from Mrs Weasley's face when Mrs Weasley figured it out (and she really hoped she could rely on that fact), it wasn't really a serious deal. Cecille just realized, how dark and _black_, are the things in this house.

"Not again," she heard the voice of one of the twins behind her, and she gasped quietly.

"Sirius' mother," the other responded gloomily.

Cecille turned around to face them and they stared at her in confusion. In the same time, they uttered the almost identical sentence: "Ginny, what are you doing here?", "Tonks, what are you doing here?"

"Who's Tonks?" Cecille asked back. For one moment that seemed endless to Cecille, Fred and George swiveled from exchanging a serious look and then stared at Cecille. They made faces that were between serious surprise and mischievous grins.

"You joined the Order?" asked, Cecille guessed from his voice, George.

Cecille really hoped one of them would crack a joke to tease her instead of staring her like she was more fragile than a piece of dried fairy wing. They listened as the air that was filled with abusive swearing dropped into a hollow muffled silence.

"My parents, and they're so protective they can't see I'm not a toddler who can't take care of herself," said Cecille, making a face. A weird warm sensation squirmed just right below her stomach, as she pictured Fred ruffled her hair. But it didn't come. They gave her a worrying look instead.

"Come on, let's get inside." said the other, Fred, tentatively. He motioned her to get inside and Cecille did so.

As they got inside, Cecille's nose, that had adjusted to the scent of attic-like air and aging furniture, could detect the smell of burnt cauldron and gunpowder. The room was quite roomy, framed with two beds on both sides of the room and lit by a great fireplace. They settled themselves on the space between the two beds. Fred and George sat across of her.

"Who was that?" she finally broke the ice barrier.

"Sirius' mother," said Fred.

"Don't panic. Sirius is a good bloke," George added.

"And it was only a painting, his mother," Fred concluded.

"Don't worry. Dumbledore told me," Cecille said, throwing them a flat smile.

"Why didn't you owl us-"

"-that you're joining the Order?"

It couldn't have been clearer that they had been struggling not to burst into this question from the moment Cecille revealed herself. They grinned mischievously and Cecille ducked her gaze to the dirty floor. After Cedric was gone, she kept making herself as far as she could from the twins, from the pair she and Cedric used to be.

"I- Aguilo broke his wings," she replied with a tone of regret she managed to add without even trying. Fred and George exchange looks and decided to drop the topic. There were always curious things between pair of twins.

"Speaking of owls, Alicia said in her letter you two aren't replying her letter," said Cecille, feeling thankful the sudden realization struck her.

"Oh yeah," Fred began, and Cecille was glad he was back with his amused tone again; "This Order is so secretive."

"We're not allowed to owl anyone!" George added with a hint of bewilderment.

"Not a single person, even though that means we aren't breaking our vows," said Fred.

"Oh, and if you're allowed to owl her if you're home, just tell her that little stupid owl of Ron's beat it," said George. Cecille laughed, but she had the impression that the twins were blaming their brother's owl for the effect from whatever they force-swallowed into the bird.

"So, tell me, who's already in this Order?" asked Cecille.

Feeling happy, and above all, grateful, Cecille allowed the pointless barrier she had set between Fred and George to melt down. They probably knew that Cedric's death would trouble her to no end, but the mere fact that they were here, hanging with her, helping her to resurface from the sea of self-pitying, seemed to be the only thing that existed in this world. They talked about the Order and the members that were mostly unknown to Cecille, including the Tonks girl George mistook her for.

"And then there's Lupin," said Fred.

"Ooh! Professor Lupin?" Cecille asked.

"Yeah, _Professor_ Lupin," George teased.

"Well, he's the best teacher we've got, isn't he?" Cecilled reasoned.

"Uh uh, and then there's Snape," said Fred.

"What?!"

"Yes, yes, _Professor_ Snape, Ms Diggory," said George.

"No, I'm not impressed with it!" Cecille said. "More like, I don't know, I don't really like the idea of working with a Slytherin," she added bitterly. Fred and George gave her an approving smile.

"Bill doesn't like him either," said George.

"Your brothers are here?" she asked them tentatively. Fred and George exchanged looks and decided to go on with it.

"Yeah, Bill's here, applying a desk job," said Fred.

"Charlie's in the society too. Only that he's still in the Romania, recruiting foreign wizards, and..."

George's voice tailed off.

"You must be curious about Percy," said Fred.

"That git who gives his everything for moronic things," George concluded and rolled his eyes.

"Actually," Cecille started, afraid of driving the twins into series of mockery. "Actually, Dad told me that he saw Percy and your father sometimes in the Ministry, and they..." Cecille went out of the words to describe that certain pair of father and son, and decided to hang it unfinished.

"We know," the twins sighed together.

"Anyway, I think McGonagall's here too," said Cecille, once again feeling thankful the sudden realization flashed in her mind.

"What- Really?" asked Fred.

"That's dangerous! She might extend her House Head privileges to give us detention if she spotted us," George said with artificial horror carved on his face. Cecille laughed and explained the two about her meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Her own house? But I thought House Heads have their own cabin in the castle," said George. Fred threw him an amused look as he tilted his head.

"You sound like you've been reading your dear Hermione's Hogwarts: A History," Fred teased.

"Look now who's talking. Speaking like he's been listening to his dear Hermione's promotion of the book," George backfired.

"I can hear you, Fred, George," a muffled feminine voice found its way to penetrate the bedroom door. Cecille looked at the door, feeling slightly startled as the thought of being eavesdropped occurred in her mind. The said girl then knocked the door. George brought his wand out and swished it against the door. The door swung opened violently and the said girl shrieked.

"Chill, Hermione," said Fred. Hermione glanced at Cecille before her eyebrows twitched with doubt. Fred, who noticed the missing piece of Hermione's puzzled thought, introduced Cecille to Hermione. "Oh, she's Cecillia Diggory. Guess what, her parents are joining in!"

"Oh," said Hermione, shaking her head as if cursing herself inwardly in silence. "Of course, I'm sorry. Well-" (her voice turned into somewhat cheery like she had been practicing to introduce herself before) "-I know we've met before but let me introduce myself properly. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Cecillia Diggory," Cecille replied and smiled awkwardly. "We met at the Quidditch World Cup."

"That sounds like we don't really share a Common Room," said Fred with a clear hint of sarcasm, remembering that all of them were actually Gryffindors.

"Well, firstly, Fred, or George, you can simply open the door with your hand!" Hermione shouted at the twins, still standing by the doorframe with her hands folded on her chest.

"You'll be singing the other song the moment you turned seventeen," George explained fairly.

"And I was just wondering, have you seen Crookshanks?" she asked, still eyeing the twins with an unpleasant glare.

"Negative," said George lightly.

"How would Crookshanks get in here when we don't even use the door for in-and-out way?" asked Fred.

"If I find Crookshanks-" said Hermione, but George interrupted her.

"You said it yourself that Crookshanks is a part sneezle-" (Cecille could hear Hermione hissed the word 'Kneazle') "-and I'm quite sure he wouldn't fancy lingering near our stuffs."

Hermione sighed deeply with an indication of defeat before continuing to next note. "Your mother has sent a tray of sandwiches to Ron's room, by the way. He's playing a game of Wizard's Chess with Ginny and insists me to tell you about it."

"That's unfair!" said Fred.

"Why can't Mum send one to our room?" asked George, more to his twin rather to Hermione who had left with a deep sigh.

"Hungry, Silly?" asked Fred as he winked at her. Cecille noticed that the twins started to use her stupid nickname again and found herself smiling. It was when she remembered how hungry she was.

"Well-"

"You're hungry. Ready to Apparate?" asked George. And then the bit of Hermione's conversation flashed on her mind. They hadn't used the door for in-and-out way because they were Apparating everywhere in this house. Every particle of her shoulder that she splinched last year began to soar unreasonably.

"Are you crazy? I haven't even-"

But she hadn't the chance to finish her sentence. Fred and George seized her left and right hands and brought her into a whirlwind of dimension. They travelled through space and she couldn't say the trip was nice. Everything was non-existence and uneven yet the substance around her body pushed her harder than any metal being. It was barely a second before they fell onto a solid floor with a deep thud.

A scream filled her ears and she wasn't really certain it wasn't hers. She discovered that she was gasping for air and the screaming belonged to Hermione.

"Calm yourself down, Hermione," said George.

"Calm myself down! You just Apparated before me!" she said helplessly.

"Didn't know you were on your way, Hermione, sorry," George said. It was good that Hermione didn't acknowledge Cecille's failure for Apparition test last year.

Fred helped her to her feet again and she found herself in another room. The room was nearly the same as the twins' room, with two beds and the fireplace, though she couldn't detect the smell of gunpowder here. She saw two redheads by the fireplace with a board of Wizard's Chess between them.

"Hi Cecille!" the girl, Ginny, greeted her. Ron nodded at her and greeted her too.

"You two are dating, then?" asked Ginny with a sly smirk on her face, eyeing to the spot where Cecille and Fred's finger were still intertwined. Cecille felt her heart leapt and ignited as she stupidly eyed her own hands.

"What? No, no, of course!" Cecille stammered, almost gasping for air as she said so. She pulled her hands from Fred's with effort and looked away. "We were Apparating."

Ginny nodded but Cecille couldn't help but noticed the faint snort Ginny made. "Ginny Weasley," Ginny introduced herself and turned to her brother in front of her.

"And I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said and nodded at her. "The sandwiches are there."

Cecille felt like burying her face in the mount of sandwiches on the plate. She needed to hide her boiling face and in the same time needed to feed herself some food. After a long moment, all they could hear were the sound of the rustling burnt woods in the fireplace and the commands Ginny and Ron voiced towards the chess pieces.

"So, where did you know about the Headquarters?" asked Ron, after a few moments. Cecille raised her head and she could see Hermione and Ginny glared at Ron, she even thought she could decipher the silent murmured Ginny made that pretty much looked like she was mouthing "Her twin!"

"Dumbledore told us about the new Headquarter," said Cecille, pretending she hadn't noticed anything. Hermione and Ginny spun their heads so quickly as if Cecille was launching a pair of wings from her spine.

"Us?" Hermione asked.

"New headquarters?" Ginny questioned, also in the same time.

"Well, yes, my parents have been a member," Cecille said.

"Have been?" asked Ron.

"Yeah," Cecille said. "Apparently, I assume, the Order is regathered."

"What do you mean?" the twins took the role to bombard her with questions.

"I suppose that means that this society has been founded ages go," Cecille explained, enjoying her involvement as time went by. "Maybe on the first Wizarding War."

Silence fell upon them and Cecille noticed how they exchanged worried looks. It was Hermione who broke the ice.

"We didn't know that..."

"Neither did I," said Cecille.

* * *

**A/N:** OOKKAAY, fourth chapter is up! I hope the jokes I made for the twins' dialogues work. Review please?


	5. Of Ears and Elves

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 5  
_Of Ears and Elves_

Cecille knocked the wooden door thrice, sharpening her ears to visualize the other side of the door inside her mind. It was Sunday afternoon, precisely a week after her first trip to the headquarters, and her parents went to have another meeting in Grimmauld Place. The Grimmauld Place gloomy and grimly air stung her deep to the bone but her heart was burning as if it was about to ignite. Curiously, the door clicked and one of the twins came out instead of apparating outside or magically swishing the door open.

"Oh, hey Cecille! Didn't know you're coming," he said. Cecille shifted her eyes up to his left eyebrow and found Fred's scar there.

"Hey Fred," Cecille greeted sheepishly, hoping George would jump between them suddenly. "Me neither, but I think Mom and Dad will bring me along every Sunday," she added. Fred pulled her inside by her shoulder and she hoped she could stay there forever with his hands guiding her. The familiar gunpowder scent hadn't left the room but the smell of magical flames seemed to replace oxygen inside. Cecille's eyes fell on the left bunk where George was asleep with his arms and legs bent in an odd angle.

"George took his turn to test our Blood Blisterpod early in the morning, in case you're curious," said Fred, meeting her eyes, and grinned sheepishly. "Told him to drink a Blood-Supplying Potion and take a nap for a while."

"He's asleep then?" asked Cecille, her voice tailed off, as she cursed herself inwardly for coming up with a stupid reply. Fred sat on the floor, leaned his back on the side of George's bed and Cecille sat across to him. She regretted it instantly as she found out it was pretty difficult not to meet his eyes when he was sitting perfectly in front of her.

Fred snorted and smirked. "More like bugging us, now, aren't you, Georgie?"

George chuckled and rolled over to face his guest, greeting Cecille with the most devilish smirk ever.

"How did you know?" George asked, turning to his twin.

"Honestly George, no one sleeps with their eyes shut that tight like one's concentrating to do Potion's essay," Fred explained fairly.

"Well," said George, rolling down and smashed the floor with his back, "Sorry though if I'm _interrupting_."

Cecille started to think that George actually knew what was going on between her and Fred.

"Speaking of interruption and the like," Fred's face shone with mischief as the sudden realization struck him, "I think you'd like to see our new invention!"

Cecille, who was glad with the new topic, straightened up enthusiastically. "What's that?"

"We named them the Extendable Ears," said George, summoning a card box from the nearest closet with a swish of his wand and placed it between them. Fred, Cecille tried hard not to notice his odd behavior, sat across of her with his eyes planted on Cecille.

"_Extendable Ears,_" Cecille repeated, trying to sound normal as she imagined where the twins came up with such title, "this isn't about unplugging our ears-...?"

"No real ears, of course Cecille," George burst out, apparently looked amused with Cecille's guess. Cecille, though feeling a bit ashamed, laughed with her ridiculous respond.

"We were wondering if you can perfect them..." Fred finally pulled himself into the conversation.

Cecille examined the whole card box that contained artificial ears that were connected with dry flesh-colored wires that forced Cecille to think things her wild imagination gave her (given that she lived with her mother that was a Healer). She decided not to touch them. "What do you do with them?" Cecille finally asked, afraid of misinterpreting the usage of the new-found devices.

"Play skipping with them," George sighed and rolled his eyes at Cecille.

"You channel your reception from one piece to the other piece, of course," Fred said as-a-matter-of-factly, but decided to go without a hint of sarcasm. He handed her a pair of ears, bridged with a flesh-like thread, and Cecille recovered her flinch into a squeamish jolt when she flinched slightly as their hands brushed. She really hoped her hormones to stop working preposterously that moment.

"I'm sure the more complex Protean Charm will do, you know, to remove the unwanted delay between live conversation and your reception," said Cecille, shrugging, but inwardly amazed by how she had come up with such idea.

"We've charmed them with Protean Charm-" said George, "-only that the whole thing works vice-versa-" Fred continued, "-and you don't want your target to hear you snickering from the other end of the device-" George concluded, "-and especially not when you wanted to test the thing with eavesdropping your fierce lil' sister," Fred added, his eyebrows played teasingly at George, earning a fair brotherly smack on his shoulder.

"Ginny Bat-Bogey hexed him," Fred explained. Cecille laughed, taking a mental note to find anything in her house to help them perfecting the pranks.

"Any other invention?" Cecille asked, after some good seconds laughing.

"Yep. We invented some pranks these days, most are near-complete," said Fred. He swished his wand and retrieved another card box filled with delicious sweets. George explained them as 'Skiving Snackboxes', which clearly suggested the function of the sweets before they explained to Cecille. She could easily picture herself skipping classes because the professors saw her shriveled as she bled, or fainting dramatically, or had her temperature off the roof, and sent her out of the class where she could get herself the antidote to a period of free time.

The 'it is safe?' question bugged her as they explained to her animatedly. The fact, that they'd been testing their products on themselves before, eased her mind, but still left a trace of doubt in her mind.

"Hang on," said Cecille, "so you're going to sell snacks to skive off classes at Hogwarts?! But that's mental! What if McGonagall finds out?" asked Cecille worriedly.

"We've been selling Ton-Tongue Toffees and Fake Wands for a year, and no one minds," said Fred lightly.

"Well, that's because there's nothing serious about swelling your tongue or getting your wands mixed," said Cecille fairly, battling with herself internally because she thought highly with the creativity the twins had come up with.

"Of course no one cares about someone's tongue," said George fairly.

"But mixed off wands are pretty much serious in life-threatening condition," Fred added eloquently.

Cecille took the message and sighed deeply, almost inwardly painful. The fact that schools had a nonsensical list of priorities annoyed her. Surely, sweets that were packed with antidotes were far harmless than fake wands. And imagining the school spoke higher of the importance to attend classes than to investigate the mystery behind mixed off wands really hurt.

Unrealized by her, she had became more sensitive with topics concerning life-threatening things since her twin's, Cedric, death. Pushing the thought away, Cecille put her best to crack a joke to recover herself from the painful sudden realization. "Look, I know this is ridiculous, but we are students and we go to schoo at Hogwarts, and that might screw the teachers' list of priorities."

"Calm down, Cecille, we're not selling it yet," said Fred tentatively, as though reading her thoughts from her eyes.

"But you gotta admit, that's quite a fact," said George.

"But what are you going to do with them then, if not selling them?" asked Cecille. Fred and George exhanged a very meaningful look, as if communicating their thoughts through an eye contact.

"Well, let's say we are going to make a research..." said George slowly.

"_What_?!" Cecille cried in a muffled shout when she brought her palms on her mouth. "You're going to test them _on students_?"

This might not how they had imagined to tell her their plan, because now they were exchanging a grimly look at each other.

"Cecille, we've tested our invention on ourselves before," explained Fred, and at the same time George said, "And we've got the antidotes." Together, they concluded with a "We're just going to see how they'll react."

"And _that's _why you can't do it," Cecille pointed out, emphasizing the reference of their statement, "What if they react differently?"

"They're still human, Cecille, they won't react that different," said Fred when George said "We arre just going to see how much this and that in the sweets by looking at the symptoms."

Growing up with Fred and George for the last six years enable to see the points the twins were aiming, but she just felt that this action was an utterly mad thing to do. After a good minute battling with her two-sided mind, Cecille merely said, "I'm going to talk to Hermione."

Cecille, knowing Fred and George was able to apparate and terminate her plan, dashed out of the rooms struggling to ignore Fred and George's plea for further explanation. But instead of dashing to Ginny's room (she was quite sure Hermione was sharing a room with Ginny), Cecille found herself being preoccupied with the soft whispers that came from her back.

"Who's that?!" Cecille asked, her hand gripped her wand inside her pocket nervously. Cecille was sure that it wasn't Sirius or anyone because everyone was in the meeting. The owner of the voice might feel startled to hear Cecille, because she immediately heard a shattering glass noise that echoed painfully along the dark corridors. Cecille drew her wand out. After few steps, Cecille could make out what the owner of the voice was saying.

"...filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, shameful creatures, abnormal inhumane-beings-" the voice stopped at the arrival of Cecille. Cecille found out that it was the so-called Kreacher in a deserted room (the twins had been complaining about him since last week), with an oversized photograph frame heaved against his tiny body. "What is it Kreacher can do to help?" the elf squeaked and then lowered his voice drastically when he continued with "And young criminal Animagus Black has sent more intruders to the noble house"

"Are you Kreacher, the house-elf resident here?" Cecille asked loudly, merely to show him that she was present.

"By all means, yes Miss, that is Kreacher," the elf responded, followed by his quiet scorn, "And this one is apparently an unintelligent, dim-witted squib."

"_Excuse me_?!" Cecille asked angrily, drawing her wand out so the elf would realize that she was not a Squib. After years of night time sneaking to the Hogwarts Kitchen and meeting a bunch of house-elves, Cecille had never met one like Kreacher.

Suddenly, in the semi-darkness, Cecille felt someone drew between her and Kreacher and said, "Go rot yourself in Azkaban, Kreacher!"

It was Fred. She just knew, she would just question herself and demand for a strong evidence, but she just knew. She couldn't see the scar on his eyebrow, nor see the birthmark on his neck that belonged to his twin, but she just knew.

"As young Mr Weasley wishes," the elf spat and disapparated along with the large photograph frame. Both of them froze there a few seconds, staring blankly at the spot Kreacher had stood before he disapparated.

"You didn't send him out, did you? He might know more about the Order than me, seeing that he lives here," Cecille whispered, suddenly became aware of the distance between them. Fred spun around to face her.

"No. I can't make him do things. Only Sirius and the elf himself that has the control over Kreacher," said Fred in a low voice. Both of them froze, battling with their thoughts in their own minds. Cecille felt a strong urge to flee from the room and an equally strong force to keep her exactly where she was. She knew by heart what she hoped would happen right away, but refused to think so. And so she led Fred outside the room.

"Where's George?" she stammered out, fighting to shake away the mindless longing to confide her feelings about Fred. She was so thankful the semi-darkness could perfectly hide her flushing cheeks.

"In Ginny's room, merely a second late to disapparate away from her room and she Bat-Bogey hexed him again," Fred chuckled. "We thought you were there, and apparently the two birds were having another girl talk again. But, don't worry, Hermione healed him. And if she can't, Mum will. Mum healed him the last time."

It sounded ten times crueler than it was supposed to be, at least to Cecille. She eyed Fred guiltily as they walked and muttered tentatively, "Sorry."

"Don't be stupid, we've gone through that for times," said Fred. Cecille nodded in defeat.

"Look, Fred," Cecille started as they stopped walking. Fred eyed her between suspiciously and cautiously, when she showed him than she just told them apart. "If you still insist to test them on students, you must test them on me first. Deal?"

She didn't know where it came from. She just felt that she needed to show them how much she cared for her fellow innocent 'future-victims', and that putting herself on the front line just felt like a good plan. If they truly thought that their pranks were harmless, they would let her. If they just wanted to have fun, they wouldn't let her.

This was the point where they would have to trust each other.

Fred eyed her in disbelief and wonder. Cecille extended her arms with a typical-Gryffindor challenging look on her face.

"Deal."

And they shook hands.

* * *

**A/N: Feeeiii, where are you when I need your reviews? Lol. But really, I start to worry that my story is nowhere near you expectation. As for the kind guest who reviewed, thank you very much for that, you made my day, anonymous *winks*. But that's okay though, people have every right to review or not to review my fanfic.**


	6. Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 6  
_Home Is Where Your Heart Is_

* * *

_"Let me try it," Cecille said, unrealized by her on the first time, at the same time with Fred and George. The three of them were sitting in a small circle on the floor, each facing a series of required brewing-materials and a small plate where a small piece of sweet laid. For a second, Cecille extended her hands to take the newly-perfected product, but Fred's hand snatched the sweet first._

_"Cecille, _we_ came up with the stupid idea," he said, rising to his feet and brought the sweet out of her reach._

_"And _I _came up with the last ingredient," Cecille said stubbornly whilst hopping to reach out for the sweet on Fred's towering hand._

_"That's why we owe you," said George lightly from the floor, as if he was enjoying a free show. Cecille glared at him, earning a fair knowing smirk as he raised his eyebrows. "And put you before ourselves," said Fred nobly, holding his head high like Percy. _

_"No, you don't understand!" Cecille panted, still reaching for that piece of snack in Fred's grasp. _

_"No, _love, _you don't understand." Fortunately, Cecille got a serious matter -namely a piece of food being injected by a potion co-brewed by Cecille herself- to worry, and it really did distracted her from the fact that Fred just called her 'love'. _

_"I came up with the most vital ingredient!" Cecille said, trying to make Fred and George to understand her. She backed up, slightly feeling aware of the distance between her and Fred, and decided that she would not get the sweet anyway. _

_"And we've spent weeks," Fred began. "Eating and looking like we've just duelled," George finished. _

_"I could've made a mistake," said Cecille, almost shrieking, when Fred made a slight movement indicating that he was about to eat it. Fred, noticing the panic in her voice, looked at her and sighed._

_"Hey, look, Cecille, we trust you," said Fred softly. Cecille, averting her eyes from Fred's eyes before she could got lost in them, gazed down to where George was laying, and found him looking at her as sure as Fred. She trusted the twins, of course, that was why she felt sure about testing the Fainting Fancy on herself. But, the real question was, did she trust herself?_

_"We've made a deal," Cecille pointed out. _

_"Upup, our deal is that you'll test them before those first years," Fred explained animatedly. Cecille, suddenly feeling so responsible, eyed the sweet in Fred's hand nastily, as if it was its fault that it didn't get itself free from Fred's palms. _

_"I know," said Cecille lamely, whilst she squeezed her brain for a logical comeback. "But this is-"_

_"Oh, come on, Cecille," George said, "we've been through numerous uglier experiments anyway."_

_"Do you two ever listen in class?" Cecille demanded hysterically, after convincing the twins to no avail. _

_"We believe it's rhetorical," George said._

_"Every single drop contributes to the brewing results!" Cecille recited, dismissing George's comment. What she really needed now was that the twins could see how important her last ingredient was._

_"And that's why you should never test it before us," said Fred. "Believe us, you wouldn't want to hear our brewing process," said George. _

_"Please," Cecille begged, putting on a puppy face somehow effortlessly. "I'd never forgive myself if something happen."_

_She didn't mean it that seriously, but it somehow occurred to the twins how fatal was the last ingredient Cecille had come up with. Fred, sighing deeply, glanced down at George for a back up, and came up with nothing for a counter commentary. _

_"Okay, but just for this once, okay?" Fred said. He tore the sweet into two halves and gave the first half to Cecille, securing the other antidotal half in his palm. "And then, when we're in Hogwarts, we'll have Madam Pomfrey to bother. Deal?" asked George. _

_"Deal," Cecille said. She shoveled the small sweet into her mouth and let the sugary texture to dissolve on her tongue. Her heart hammered against her ribcage in anticipation as she anxiously waited for the moment she would collapse. And then, quicker than falling asleep, Cecille felt herself being pulled into unconsciousness. _

_The next moment, she was lying awoke, with Fred sitting cross-legged next to her head and George peering from the side of the bed near her. _

_"How do you feel?" asked Fred worriedly. _

_"Itching," said Cecille truthfully. Catching the panicked looks on the twins' faces, Cecille broke into laughter and finished it with "Itching to prank Filch for our upcoming free periods, I mean."_

_George gave her a playful smack on her shoulder whilst Fred threw himself backward as he fell next to her with a deep thud. _

_"You gave us a heart attack, you know it?" Fred said and chuckled._

* * *

Cecille smiled to herself as she wheeled her trolley through the crowded King's Cross Station. She was ahead of her parents, leaving them talking about whatever the Order were fussing about. She felt satisfied, happy, proud, cheery but also fairly worried after perfecting Fred and George's product. She knew Mrs Weasley wouldn't be happy upon finding out the twins' business (the twins never told her, but she felt unreasonably sure). But everything about the prank was almost everything that mainly kept her from wallowing herself in self-pity since her twin, Cedric died.

The fact that Fred and George -that two twins that happened to be her best friends, that gave her the clearest reminder of what she and Cedric were- could make her in the possible happiest state, was so miraculous, wonderful, important and irreplaceable to her. They managed to bring their old times back to life; of times when they were just a band of mischievous pranksters that had nothing but a life involving around flicking dungbombs to Filch's office or setting the whole Slytherin Common Room in fireworks.

She really missed those old times. She could still recall of times she screamed like a crazed banshee when they fled from Filch, crouched into a ball as the twins tickled her and times they pushed each other to the Black Lake. Cecille smiled sadly to herself; she couldn't do things like that anymore. Not when she should be studying harder now with high-standard Healer academic expectation, not when she still felt depressed and somehow jealous sometimes that Fred and George still had each other, not when she was in love with Fred-

_Love_.

Cecille felt herself heated up in the face at the thought. Love. Was it really love that she felt for Fred?

"Cecille, where are you going? The barrier's here," suddenly Dad's words found a way to penetrate her jumbled mind. Cecille blinked, taking herself off her reverie and realized she was standing at platform 10.

"Oh," Cecille said and shook her head, as if it could cast away the blush in her cheeks. "Yeah, right, how stupid of me." Cecille tried to sound amused, but ended up expressionless. Cecille wheeled her trolley back to the space between platform 9 and platform 10.

"Are you alright? Anything troubled you?" asked Mum. Cecille sighed deeply. It always hurt when her mother asked her this. _Of course there's something troubling me_, Cecille thought to herself, _nothing is right since_-

"I'm okay. Just- just NEWTs," Cecille partly lied. Cecille felt sad for lying to her mother and ashamed for being a lovesick puppy with NEWTs matters in front of her face. And scared too, now that the realization of NEWTs struck her. They were walking in silence when Lee showed.

"Hey Lee!" Cecille greeted, nudging one of her mates on the shoulder. It might be a very awkward move, but Cecille wanted her friends to treat her like normal (instead of treating her like a ticking-bomb) if they wanted her to be happy.

"Ah, Cecille!" Lee said, grinning and punching her arm friendly in return. "Good holiday?"

If Lee weren't a close friend of hers, Cecille might've glared at him or sent him an eye-piercing look. Besides, Cecille did _not _have a good holiday, to be frank. But Cecille knew Lee was trying to act as conversational and normal as he could, so Cecille played with his rules. "A very nice holiday, indeed. Imagine, a pile of summer papers! How beautiful can it be?"

They laughed. Cecille looked back and saw that her parents were engaging a warm conversation with Lee's parents.

"Oh, look, it's Harry. The Weasleys shouldn't be far away. Harry!" Lee suddenly called out, bringing a dark-haired boy's attention to them. Harry, Mrs Weasley and an elderly woman approached them. The old woman nudged down someone's trolley when she waved and winked at Cecille, and then Cecille realized it must be Tonks (whom she had known from her weekly visit to the Grimmauld Place). Cecille waved at them.

"Hey Lee, Cecille," Harry greeted.

Out of the sea of crowded feet, a bear-like black dog appeared and barked playfully. Cecille's eyes widened as she examined the dog, not hearing Lee complimenting Harry on Snuffles or Mrs Weasley complaining on how skinny she got. Yes, she knew Snuffles. One night, Cecille and her parents were invited to a dinner with Mrs Weasley and Sirius had bursted out from the kitchen in his animagus form, apparently wanting to beat his niece (this was one of the facts she discovered after joining the society, that Tonks was Sirius' relative) to entertain them.

Cecille cast a worried look at Harry, blushed as Snuffles sniffed through her fingers and wagged his tail frantically. Cecille looked at Harry worriedly, screaming a message of 'Why is he here?!'

Harry, though it was quite obvious that he was suprressing a grin, lifted his shoulder in a non-committal way.

"Ah, Fred, George! Care to explain why hadn't you two owled me back?" Lee bursted out.

Cecille, pushing away her feelings towards Fred, spun around and greeted her two mates cheerily.

"Ah, that one. Ron's owl really broke your owl's wing," Fred said (and Cecille couldn't help but roll her eyes), "and it's been traumatic ever since. Wouldn't bother to fly."

"But, here's your owl. Probably, he'll get normal after he sees you," said George and he handed Lee a cage with a large brown owl hooting happily inside of it. Lee accepted his owl cage from George. "But guess what, same thing happened to Alicia's owl."

"Really?" Lee responded, though Cecille guessed that he was trying to sound non-chalant. Even a blind guy would notice the spark between Lee and Alicia.

"Yeah. She owled us, asking whether or not you're coming back to Hogwarts," said Fred as he sniggered along with his twin. Cecille's stomach churned and sank, thinking about Alicia believing every nonsensical and disdainful bits of Prophet made her felt betrayed. Cecille had lost a twin and to think that she had already lost another friend was the last thing she would ever wish.

_Maybe she is just a lovesick puppy, asking everything about Lee and everything, _Cecille thought hopefully. But, after all, it had a point. She could picture Alicia lying on her bed like a common schoolgirl, smiling as she spent forever to stare at a photograph of Lee. Taking a mental note to tease Alicia as soon as they met, Cecille smirked. "And she doesn't seem to ask it to you herself," George teased.

"You're making that up," Lee said and he rolled his eyes. "Why would Alicia think I'm not going back when she's got you two to compare?" Fred and George grinned the identical grin, looking as though they were torn to tackle him to the floor for speaking of it in front of their mother or to behave well whilst Mrs Weasley taking care of the others.

"No, we aren't," said Fred and he pointed to another cage in which a peaceful owl perching.

"Come on, you better get aboard," Mum suddenly appeared from the sea of crowd along with Lee's parents, who had caught up with their son and were lecturing something about Quidditch. Mum enveloped her in a tight hug and Cecille knew what was on her mother's mind.

Cecille, her parents' last now-only child, was now going to leave her Mum and Dad to themselves as they probably grieved over the death of Cedric. Cecille felt a pang of guilt in her heart. But she should go back to Hogwarts, mustn't her? She wanted to make her parents proud; no one else would have the chance to do it now but Cecille. Cecille smiled lifelessly at her Dad above her mother's shoulder.

"Mum, it will be okay. Everything's going to be okay," Cecille said, stroking her mother's long hair that was identical to hers. Mum laughed and let go of Cecille. Sending soothing words and comfort was always Dad's thing, it would always turn awkward if it came from Cecille or her mother.

"Now, now, behave well. I don't want to see you sending a letter saying you got a detention _again_," Mum said.

"And study hard. You don't want to see your mother's bad side just because you bring along your Trolls this Christmas," said Dad. Cecille laughed and gave her father a huge bear-hug.

She shook hands with Mr and Mrs Weasley, Professor (she found this addicting to tease her former teacher) Lupin, Moody (but not this particular should-have-been Professor) and finally gave an awkward hug for Tonks (she grumpily hugged old-Tonks but Tonks hugged her back like a teenager). Cecille then unloaded her trunks, her owl cage and her broom from the trolley with a swish of her wand. Her possessions levitated themselves in the air and lined behind her.

The engine rumbled to a start and an ear-piercing whistle filled the air. Cecille was squeezed in the sea of students and their possessions so hard the atmosphere suddenly seemed to be airless (that, and she was pushed to Fred). After the mop got thinner and Cecille got more spaces to move, they found themselves of compartment and stowed their stuffs to the luggage rack.

They literally spent their train ride teasing Lee with Alicia. Fred and George seemed to have observant eyes when it came to relating things to tease people. And Lee, nothing too special, never bothered to deny those things regarding how stunning or funny Alicia was. The last time she was involved in their conversation, they said they were going to hold a game of Exploding Snap. Cecille, afraid of getting paired with Fred by Lee, decided to read a book from her small library at home through the ride.

They didn't bother to look for Alicia and Angelina for Lee's peace. That, and Cecille could catch pieces of conversations involving their pranking products that would make Alicia and Angelina launched up a session of debate (let alone interest them).

When the train slowed down, the four of them slipped on their robes and bussied themselves with their stuffs. Cecille volutereed to take care of Alicia's owl. They scrambled through the crowd of students (that seemed to have no conversation topic more interesting than irritatingly mocking Harry and the like) as soon as possible. Cecille could no longer stand them and decided to take the nearest carriage that was thankfully almost empty except for a girl.

"Hey, Katie, do you mind if we join?" Cecille asked. Katie, who seemed to enjoy the silence that filled the carriage before Cecille came, tumbling on the door, looked up from her lap with a quill on her right hand.

"Oh, no. It's okay. Join, please," said Katie politely. Cecille climbed up and settled herself next to Katie, followed by Fred, George and Lee, who sat across from the girls. They greeted each other warmly.

"Oh, _still _in touch with Oliver, I see?" Lee asked, gesturing to an owl on Katie's lap as she magically tied the letter on its foot. Katie didn't answer right away. She retied and rechecked the knot thrice and then opened the carriage's window for the bird to fly away, effectively killing good five minutes.

"That's a letter to my parents, you idiot," said Katie playfully and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come off it, Katie. We know there's something about you and Oliver," Lee pushed the topic.

"Lee, just because you spent the whole train ride being teased about Alicia-" Cecille started but Katie squealed and cut her off.

"_Alicia_?! Oh, I knew it! It's about damn time anyway," Katie triumphantly exclaimed.

"I could've said the same thing about you and Oliver," Lee pointed out, avoiding to confirm the statement.

"What about you and your ridiculously commentary when it comes to Alicia?" Katie teased.

"I can't believe you actually bother to listen," Fred joined the battle.

"Are you saying you never listen?" Lee said, mimicking an irritated expression.

"Not in our own match of course," George backed his twin, "not with those bludger to deal with."

"Not with you commentating Alicia doing hair-flips," Fred corrected and the twins laughed out loud.

"Well," Lee coolly ignored the twins' laughter, "of course we're all curious why did Oliver's owl hang around the table of Gryffindor thrice a week last year."

"Oliver's owl?" Cecille burst out, remembering her last year, "but Katie, you said it was your penmate from other magical school!"

"What a good story for a cover up," George muttered, earning a glare from the sixth year.

"It's not like you actually know Oliver's owl," Katie said.

"Of course I know his owl," Lee mused, "I've been his housemate for years."

"I'm his housemate too!" Cecille said, feeling utterly dumbfounded that she hadn't noticed the thing between Katie and Oliver in the first place.

"You won't even know if it's your owl if we don't tell you," Fred joked. Cecille whacked him playfully on the knee. True, that was why she needed to train Aguilo, her owl, to answer to her voice so that she wouldn't get the wrong owl. Cecille blushed at the fact, and Cecille tried her best to plant the thought that it was because of the fact instead of the breath-taking smirk on Fred's face when she whacked him.

"Not to mention that we didn't have Quidditch last year," said George, snapping Cecille back from her thought. "Hmm, hmm, I was wondering..."

Katie gave a deep unnaturally long sigh. "Was it _that _obvious?" she asked desperately. Cecille had a brief impression of Katie yearning over the moon as she repeatedly calling for Oliver.

"Of course not! I don't even get the vaguest clue that a particular reserved Puddlemere Keeper is dating his old teammate," said Lee rather sarcastically (though playfully) whilst the twins were chanting 'KATIE'S DATING OLLIE, KATIE'S DATING OLLIE' loudly. Katie's cheeks reddened and it was a bit hard to distinguish the reason behind it between embarrassment and annoyance. It turned out to be the latter.

"You three will pay for it!" Katie yelled in a volume Cecille had only heard from Katie in the Quidditch Pitch. The twins ceased down with their faces read artificial horror.

"Oh no," Fred muttered and gasped.

"She's going to tell her Mr. Boyfriend," George said and he trembled on his seat.

"SAVE YOURSELF FROM THIS CRAZED CHASER," Lee suddenly shouted as if Gryffindor just scored their first goal against Slytherin. And with that those three fled from the carriage and opted to run to Hogwarts. Katie rose from her seat and opened the window; she slithered out the window until it was only her waist and her legs that stayed inside. Cecille could hear Katie clearly shouted, "COME BACK HERE AT ONCE YOU LOT BAND OF GARDEN GNOMES!"

Cecille couldn't help but laughed too. She could still hear Fred, George and Lee laughing out loud from afar. Katie grumbled and muttered things to herself before she slid back down to her seat.

"Cool down, Katie, I volunteer to give them some lessons," Cecille said. "Congratulation for you and Oliver, though. Sorry, it's a bit late, I'm such a big troll."

Katie laughed.

"Thank you, Cecille!" Katie said and she giggled. "And as for the late things, no. We just got together recently. Ooh, I know right! It should've been ages ago, but I was a great cowardly idiot I didn't know how obvious the thing was!"

To be frank, Cecille was a huge dolt idiot when it came to a girl talk. So she simply laughed and smiled happily for her fellow Gryffindor. Katie looked so happy. Suddenly an image of herself, Cecille, giggling with Alicia and Angelina as she told them that she recently got together with Fred. Cecille snapped herself from the mindless trance.

"Oh, and speaking of Oliver which is to speak about Quidditch," Katie started again, "I heard Angie is made Quidditch Captain!"

"Oh, really?" Cecille responded enthusiastically. "Where did you hear it?"

"From a bunch of excited juniors that I bet will show up for our tryouts," Katie explained, her face that was flushed after talking about Oliver reddened at the topic, "I thought they'd take Harry for the Captain. I mean, he's such a good flyer. But I thought they wouldn't bother to push him especially after-"

Cecille's body went rigid, the enthusiasm that flowed on her blood dissolved into a dull sorrow. She didn't know how easy people got to that topic. She remembered pieces of conversations she heard on the train corridors and from the platforms. Katie's eyes widened and she bowed her head guiltily. Cecille wanted to burst out and say that it was okay, but that meant that she was lying to herself. And that wasn't going to straighten everything. Cecille averted her gaze to the window.

"I'm sorry, Cecille. I didn't mean to bring that up," Katie said tentatively. Cecille nodded her head and forced a wan smile.

"It's okay," Cecille whispered back, almost not trusting her voice to take over. Katie sighed. When Cecille pulled her gaze back from the window, she found out Katie was eyeing the casing on the door that contained newspapers disdainfully.

"It's disgusting, you know, what they do," Katie said nastily as she signaled for the untouched Prophet by her chin. Cecille nodded but she couldn't help but burst out into her question.

"You don't believe it?" Cecille asked.

"Of course not! Prophet is a pile of useless crap now. I've stopped reading it," Katie said. Out of nowhere, Cecille felt a warm strong rush of gratefulness towards Katie and she hugged her fellow teammate from her side. Katie, as if she had predicted it, hugged her back. Cecille knew Katie would probably the only one in Hogwarts not to believe the Prophet.

Before they knew, their carriage stopped gently to a halt.

"It's alright now, Cecille," Katie said comfortingly, though quite pointless now that there was nothing to do since Cedric was gone, "we better get in quickly, before Peeves gets us."

Cecille, smiling and now grinning, nodded her head and followed Katie into the Great Hall.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, I didn't know it was you, Fei! Hahaha, sorry, the title said guest. Oh, I mistook the genre just again *smack my forehead*. Thanks though for the feedback. Good luck for your college studies, by the way. Oh, and another guest! Thank you so much! Oh, and y'all can give me feedbacks, you know! :D**


	7. Beginning of The End

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 6  
_Beginning of the End_

Cecille entered the Great Hall with Katie and the two girls were being welcomed by the thick atmosphere of magic that barely changed since their first Sorting Ceremony. The scent within it, the sound echoing through the marble walls, the aura emitted from the magical candles, and literally everything seemed like they hadn't changed. But of course, everything had changed. Cecille walked inside with her head tilted down and she found herself concentrating to the sound her shoes made instead of the loud buzzing other students made. She knew what they were talking about; '_that's Cedric's twin sister', 'I never realize how much similar they are', 'poor Cecillia, being left by her twin'. _

"I'll catch up with you later, Cecille," said Katie, snapping Cecille from her concentration. The next moment, Katie had engaged a warm talk with her peers, probably about her and Oliver. Cecille smiled sadly to herself as she muttered a quiet 'okay' to Katie, who Cecille was sure didn't hear that.

Cecille kept walking until she found herself arrived to the other end of the Gryffindor table. Fortunately, Angelina and Alicia were sitting not far from there. Sighing in relief, Cecille approached them and sat across of them.

"Cecille! Where have you been along the train ride? We were looking for you!" Alicia fussed just after Cecille settled herself. She looked up to fully see her friends' faces. Alicia looked as Alicia as ever but what caught Cecille's attention was the awfully-healed bruises around Angie's jaw.

"Alicia, you better thank me for not dragging you to the same compartment with your beloved Lee Jordan," Cecille answered briskly, though saving a wide smirk plastered on her face for Alicia. Turning to Angie, Cecille wiped her stupid smirk and her face read concern. "What did you do with your face, Angie?"

"Uh, this?" Angie asked, trying to sound amused as she pointed to her bruises. "That's my owl. He broke his wing and apparently the tending activity went a little bit chaotic."

Cecille nodded understandingly before a loud laughter erupted from the mouth of the Great Hall's door. Cecille craned her neck to see Fred, George and Lee entered the Hall laughing like three diseased unicorns; all of them were sparkling with sweats.

"I can't believe you fall for an idiot like those," Cecille heard Angie muttered as Fred, George and Lee settled themselves on the other end of Gryffindor Table. Cecille, looking at the prankster trio, didn't know that Angie was talking about Alicia. Both Alicia and Cecille turned to Angie in such a quick movement and both retorted, "Oh, shut up, Weasley."

This time, Alicia turned to Cecille and cast her a questioning look. She was about to answer Alicia when the buzzing in the Great Hall died and all pairs of eyes stared at a long line of pale-faced first years led by McGonagall. Cecille gazed her first glance to the High Table of the professors when a short figure stuffed in an irritatingly bright pink wardrobe caught Cecille's eyes. Why, the figure was dressed in a very bright cardigan it was hardly possible for anyone to glance up without their gazes being magnetically pulled to the figure. Squinting her eyes as if examining the figure too long could damage her sight, Cecille gazed to the Sorting Hat before it burst out into a new song.

_In times of old when I was new,  
__And Hogwarts barely started,  
__The founders of our noble school,  
__Thought never to be parted,_

_United by a common goal,  
__They had the selfsame yearning,  
__To make the world_'_s best magic school,  
__And pass along their learning._

"_Together we will build and teach!_"  
_The four good friends decided,  
__And never did they dream,  
__That they might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere,  
__As Slytherin and Gryffindor?  
__Unless it was the second pair  
__Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?  
__How could such friendships fail?  
__Why, I was there and so can tell,  
__The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, _"_We_'_ll teach just those whose  
__Ancestry is purest._"  
_Said Ravenclaw, _"_We_'_ll teach those whose  
__Intelligence is surest._"

_Said Gryffindor, _"_We_'_ll teach all those  
__With brave deeds to their name._"  
_Said Hufflepuff, _"_I_'_ll teach the lot,  
__And treat them just the same._"

_These differences caused little strife,  
__When first they came to light,  
__For each of the four founders had  
__A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted,  
__So, for instance, Slytherin  
__Took only pure-blood wizards  
__Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind  
__Were taught by Ravenclaw  
__While the bravest and the boldest  
__Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
__And taught them all she knew,  
__Thus the houses and their founders  
__Retained friendships, firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
__For several happy years,  
__But then discord crept among us  
__Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,  
__Had once held up our school,  
__Now turned upon each other and,  
__Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school  
__Must meet an early end,  
__What with dueling and with fighting  
__And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning  
__When old Slytherin departed  
__And though the fighting then died out  
__He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four  
__Were whittled down to three  
__Have the houses been united  
__As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here  
__And you all know the score:  
__I sort you into houses  
__Because that is what I_'_m for,_

_But this year I_'_ll go further,  
__Listen closely to my song:  
__Though condemned I am to split you  
__Still I worry that it_'_s wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty  
__And must quarter every year  
__Still I wonder whether Sorting  
__May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
__The warning history shows,  
__For our Hogwarts is in danger  
__From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her  
__Or we_'_ll crumble from within  
__I have told you, I have warned you…  
__Let the Sorting now begin._

"At last," Cecille murmured to herself.

"A bit longer this year. Curious, eh?" said Angie, though it was almost crystal clear that she had slipped a sarcastic... no, ironic message with it. Cecille eyed her concernedly but nodded in agreement anyway. The Sorting Ceremony went as normal as it should, with some occasional applause from each house whenever they got a new member.

The empty space that bridged Cecille and Ginny and her Gryffindor fourth years was soon filled with some horrified first years. They were looking at Cecille somehow concernedly, or pitifully, that Ginny needed to nudge them on the shoulder and tell them to pay attention. Cecille smiled gratefully to the Weasley.

"To our newcomers, welcome!" Dumbledore spoke as he stretched his arms wide as if to embrace the whole Great Hall. "To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

The Great Hall erupted into something between laughter and surprised exclaims (most likely from the first years) as the dishes and foods had bloomed out of nowhere on each Table in the Hall. Cecille was stuffing herself with pies and salads to prevent herself to notice how reluctant the first years next to her was doing, acting as if she was a ticking-bomb. After finishing her job with a glass of pumpkin juice, Cecille looked back to the High Table in time as Dumbledore rose again.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore as he went to the annually formal notices. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door," Dumbledore went on as Cecille felt herself grinning at the topic.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the short figure Cecille had noticed earlier.

"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the -"

Dumbledore stopped talking and Cecille needed to fruitlessly scan the Hall twice for the unwanted interruption. Cecille's eyes dropped at Angie, who was scowling (must be something about interrupting the speech topic that she had captained) grimly at the High Table. Cecille followed her gaze and found out that the short figure, Umbridge, was actually standing and clearing her throat unpleasantly.

"Another speech?" Cecille asked in an incredulous tone before rolling her eyes and propped her chin to the edge of the table.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge started, "for those kind words of welcome."

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" the newly appointed professor said in a somewhat sickening sweet tone. It was draining her energy just to listen to her. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Cecille felt a very powerful rush to snort, but she managed her best to stay calm while drowsiness was penetrating her skull.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

"What kind of rubbish is that?!" Cecille heard Alicia sneered in a shushed voice, her face plastered with an utterly disgusted expression. Umbridge went on.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered..."

Cecille felt herself rose unconsciously to a proper sitting position after hearing it. She didn't realize she was glaring a very eye-piercing look at the speaker. Cecille might not know what was on Dumbledore's mind when he hired her (Cecille even doubted Dumbledore's intention to bring her to teach with the sudden chaos in the Ministry she heard from her parents), but whatever it was, Cecille knew this teacher wouldn't do any good to Hogwarts. Umbridge was a Ministry person and as far as she could remember, anything the Ministry was fussing recently was a load of waffle about Harry and some amoral mockeries over somebody who's dead already. Cecille's glare hardened at Umbridge. The longer she glared at Umbridge, the more and more similiarities between Umbridge and a toad that caught her eyes. Everything about her was sickening.

"...pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited," Umbridge finished her speech. She sank to her seat without making any significant difference in heights and Dumbledore clapped as a response to her speech. Students and staffs followed his lead, clapping unenthusiastically once or twice (Cecille dared to bet that only a handful of people there that noticed that her speech had come to and end).

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge," said Dumbledore, taking over the role as the speaker as he rose from his seat, "that was almost illuminating."

"Illuminating? Heck, that's a pile of garbage we'd have to deal for a year forward!" Alicia ranted indignantly. Cecille groaned as a response. "I mean, don't you two listen? Doesn't it sound like the Ministry is getting more and more power-drunk? _Ministry this, Ministry that, Ministry forbids, Ministry courages_."

Alicia continued to rant over everything she had absorbed from Umbridge and Angie was paying attention to what Dumbledore was saying about Quidditch tryouts. Cecille, on the other hand, played with the end of her bun and eyed the Umbridge woman disdainfully on some random moments.

After the dismission of the ceremony, Angie, Alicia and Cecille stood up and walked up to their dormitory silently. Angie and Alicia, being faithful best friends of Cecille's, towered on both her sides. Cecille paid no mind to anyone and simply rose to her feet, walking back to her home sweet home Gryffindor Tower thinking about how comfortable and warm her bed would.

It seemed to take eternity just to climb the staircases to their secret entrance on seventh floor. It was quite strange, seeing Cecille could have passed the corridors and stairwells in a blink of an eye with it came to running away from Filch. Her mind was so preoccupied that her thoughts looked like they had added some ounces to her weights.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," said Alicia and she led Cecille and Angelina into the Common Room. Cecille hastened to storm to her dormitory. After turning the doorknob of the last door, Cecille found Brooke Younglove, a girl Prefect from her year and her mate, Emily Chaste.

"...that's why Mum doesn't want me to get back. Dumbledore's getting old, death-resulting accidents under his nose- Oh, Cecille," Emily stammered out, turning to the doorframe's direction after receiving a warning look from Brooke. Cecille, feeling utterly bewildered, eyed Emily for quite a long time, before rushing to her bed.

"Oh come on, Emily, you don't believe the Prophet, do you?" Cecille heard Alicia arrived and backed her, as she rummaged through her luggage.

"But I do," Emily challenged coolly (Cecille squeezed her books until it got dog-eared).

"You heard Harry last June!" Alicia retorted.

"Yes, but it turns out that he's a bit of a liar," said Emily irritatingly.

"You supported him!" Alicia shouted.

"Yeah, before we all know that he's seeking for attention," again, Emily replied cooly.

"Harry _is not _a liar. The Prophet is!" Alicia raged.

"Excuse you," Emily let out an humorless dreadful laugh as she stood up, "my sister is one of the editor!"

"Well," Cecille said, also rising to her feet and faced Emily, "it's either she's also a liar or she's a dead moron."

"Don't ever insult my sister in front of me!" Emily bellowed it was almost curious she hadn't let out a breath of fire from her nostrils. Cecille laughed derisively it even sounded inhumane to her ears.

"How about stop insulting my twin brother's memory in front of society?!" Cecille confronted bluntly. Emily froze on her place but she recovered almost as instantly.

"That's not her fault," Emily shouted and pointed sharply at Cecille.

"Of course it's not her bloody fault!" Cecille found herself hissing sarcastically. Emily retrieved her hand and dug it into her robes. Cecille, realizing the movements, took out her wand and pointed it at Emily's head. Both were about to cast the spell non-verbally when Brooke disenchanted herself from the dramatic verbal battle and stood up between the two duelers.

"Whoa there, we don't want a fight here," said Brooke, her arms stretched wide between Cecille and Emily to make spaces between them as wide as possible. Emily launched herself to Cecille but Brooke pinned her easily to the wall by bare hands.

"Get off me, Brooke," Emily snarled.

"Emily, I may be your mate, but I am also a Prefect. Now, wands down," said Brooke commandingly. Emily refused. At Emily's rebellious action, Brooke said, "Alicia, help me!"

Alicia, looking between reluctant or scared, walked closer to Cecille's side without taking her eyes from Emily. Cecille was glad to see that Alicia wasn't willing to let Cecille disengaged the duel without taking any revenge. After five good seconds was spent to challenge Emily to launch the first spell, Alicia sighed and turned to Cecille. "Come on, Cecille. This is going nowhere."

Cecille glared at Emily before pointing her wand to her messy luggage, enchanted it to repack itself from throwing her wand to the drawer next to her bed, creating a spark in the process, and slammed herself against her bed. She closed the curtains violently. Slowly, her dorm mates retrieved back to their beds, bid goodnight at each other (except with Alicia and Emily) and went to sleep.

Cecille stayed unmoving on her spot for hours, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling with lying with her muggle jeans. The tiny piece conversation between Brooke and Emily seemed to meet no end as they replayed again and again before her eyes. It hurt to learn that Emily actually believed what Prophet said. She and Emily had gone along nicely through their years at Hogwarts. She lied there thinking until the only noise she could hear was the sound of her own even breaths and a silent noise of choked sobs from the bathroom.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, another chapter's up! :D**


	8. Alan Wainscott

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 7  
_Alan Wainscott_

_"Cecille..."_

* * *

Cecille could feel her breath blew warm against her palms that covered her face. No tears came out from her eyelids, they were all gone. She had been crying quietly on her bedroom and tired her cheeks all summer it nearly seemed impossible for her to make more tears came out of her eyes. Everything about her life were all desperate and hopeless; broken and pointless. The government denied the truth that had been paid by her brother's death, her friends went all fighting amongst themselves, and today she was about to get piles of nastily exhausting homework.

The first autumn breeze blew in the air, brushed her face and played with her hair. The surface of the Black Lake was so still that it looked like frozen. She was sitting by the Lake early (or, as she would say, at the ungodly hours for being awake for school) at the morning, waiting for some non-existent comfort.

_Cecille absent-mindedly knocked the door of McGonagall's office twice... maybe thrice... or ten times. She didn't know. The facts that Cedric's voice couldn't leave her mind and that she had met a criminal that had vaguely mentioned her eldest brother's death last night were driving herself insane. She then entered the room and silently closed the door shut behind her. _

_"Ms. Diggory," a kind yet charismatic voice greeted. Cecille lifted her chin to see Dumbledore, instead of McGonagall, sitting on the desk before her eyes. Apparently, McGonagall had been standing behind the door and Cecille wouldn't notice her presence if she didn't choose to usher Cecille to a chair in front of Dumbledore. "Good morning. Please, sit down."_

_Cecille sat obediently, her eyes glued to her feet. "Good morning, Professor," she said hoarsely. _

_"I see that Professor McGonagall had informed you to come to her office?" asked Dumbledore politely. Cecille made a slight nod before freezing in her chair. _

_"I firstly want to say that I, as the represent of teachers and staffs at Hogwarts, am deeply sorry to learn about yesterday's tragedy. We, as one family of Hogwarts, also suffer a great loss. But, of course, it is irrelevant now to talk about comparison," Dumbledore spoke soothingly. Cecille snorted humorlessly inside. What kind of loss they felt, compared to hers? How deep their regrets went, compared to hers?_

_"From what I heard from Professor McGonagall, you encountered a criminal with the name of Bartemius Crouch Jr, no less, in his original form, last night. Correct me if I'm wrong," Dumbledore continued. Cecille shook her head lifelessly. _

_"He mentioned a vague hint about your relatives," said Dumbledore. _

_"My eldest brother," Cecille burst out tragically, "the blasted criminal mentioned the age when he died; eight years old." Cecille's agonizing cries faded into a faint whisper. Dumbledore, even though Cecille had said some intolerable words in front of him, nodded understandingly. _

_"Charles Diggory?" Cecille nodded at Dumbledore's question. _

_"We had his name written by the Magical Quill. We were so shaken to learn that he didn't have the chance to study at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said and paused. Cecille sniffled; she covered her face with her hair. _

_"After some investigation from the officials, we discovered that Bartemius Crouch Jr is found guilty -or at least, positively involved- upon the murder of Charles Diggory and Helga Greene. I modestly beg your forgiveness, Ms Diggory, for I have failed to give the said criminal a proper execution and that my failure is extremely shameful._

_"The Minister of Magic had arrived earlier this morning and I unacceptably have failed to use my authority as the Headmaster to prevent the Minister from executing Crouch Jr under his own power as the Minister of Magic. Bartemius Crouch Jr had sentenced for a Dementor's Kiss by Cornelius Fudge, and it is my fault that he is no longer in a stable condition to provide a testimony. _

_"I beg for your forgiveness," Dumbledore ended weakly. _

_"Dementor's Kiss sounds better than death penalty. It's fine by me," Cecille muttered indignantly. It satisfied Cecille, that the murderer of her brother and her aunt was suffering a more dreadful punishment than death. Cecille, being who she was, saw Dementor's Kiss better than death for the death-sentence and she paid no mind about hundreds of unsaid testimony that left hidden. _

_"Ms Diggory-" McGonagall was about to start her usual sentence when it came to students saying unacceptable things when Dumbledore raised his hand to silence her. _

_"No need for a harsh scolding now, Minerva. Please understand Ms Diggory's current state."_

_Cecille felt hot rush of blood flowed quicker through the veins under her cheeks. "Forgive me, Professor Dumbledore."_

_"It is understandable," Dumbledore said. _

_"Now, as how I have informed your parents about their second son's death, I believe you have more rights than anyone to know. Cedric Diggory was killed by Voldemort." Dumbledore paused, probably waiting for Cecille to flinch at the name. Cecille remained silent. _

_"Voldemort has returned. Your fellow Gryffindor, Harry Potter, has witnessed his rebirth and fought him in flesh. The cup that was located at the heart of the maze, back to the third task, was no common cup. We did not design the cup to be a Portkey that would transport the users to an unknown place. I, once again, beg your forgiveness for my lack of security that once again resulted -not only death-resulting accidents that were common to the Triwizard Tournament- but a plotted murder. Mr Potter, the real target of the plot, escaped death by an inch. Crouch Jr, which in his daily disguised form was known as Professor Moody, was once again involved."_

_Cecille's eyes widened. Moody, the one who had gave Cedric and Cecille books about Transfiguration and Potion, had actually planned a dark plot to murder Harry. The fact that Crouch Jr had murdered two brothers and her aunt made her head pounded painfully. _

_"During the duel, Mr Potter's and Voldemort's wands were connected by a rare magic called Priori Incantatem; The Reverse-Spell Effect. In Priori Incantatem, one wand will force the other to regurgitate spells it had performed in a reversed order. Cedric Diggory-"_

_"He came back to life?!" Cecille urged. Dumbledore sighed heavily and shook his head sorrowfully. _

_"The dead cannot be reawakened," said Dumbledore sadly. Cecille tightened her grip on her chair as she fruitlessly tried to hold back her tears. "Cedric Diggory's echo came out and he had carried two important messages."_

_"What are they?" Cecille choked. _

_"All of these were witnessed by Harry Potter. I do not know what do you think of him, or of me who believed Harry. I can only beg for you and your family to trust him. Cedric Diggory's first message was a request for Harry to take his body back to his family. His second message was that he was sorry to leave his family and friends, and that he sends his love to his loved-ones."_

"Fred loves me. Fred loves me not. Fred loves me. Fred loves me not," a chanting snapped Cecille back from her flashback. Cecille turned to see George was sitting next to her with a flower petal on his hands, half of its flower leaves were plucked out.

"George, what are you doing?" Cecille asked.

"Nothing. Just thought you ought to have some lesson on how normal girls would do to a unfortunate petal of flower," he said, smirking. Cecille rolled her eyes and gazed back to the Black Lake.

"It's okay if you don't want to admit that you were thinking of Fred. We all know," George teased. Cecille gave him a wan smile before looking back at the Lake and shook her head lightly.

"I was thinking of Cedric," she said truthfully.

"Oh- oh, Merlin- Sorry,"

"No, don't be. You're a twin too, after all. You do know how it feels," Cecille said lifelessly, squinting her eyes as she bowed her head down. George might know how it felt, with having a twin and all. But did he really know how it felt to _lose_ one?

"You know, he wouldn't want you to spend your life grieving," George said slowly after a long pause. Cecille smiled to herself before looking at him.

"Some dramatic speech about how you'd feel if this happens to you and Fred, isn't it?" Cecille asked, chuckling. It might sound extremely strange to hear one chuckling on a topic like this. But George, being her best friend since they were eleven, knew how to ease her mind.

"Well yeah. But don't tell him that," George hastened to add. "He'll tease me to my doom."

"Secret safe with me," said Cecille in a noble tone.

"Your secret is safe with me too," said George lightly as he let himself land his back on the grass. His eyes were closed. Cecille eyed him suspiciously.

"What secret?"

"That you fancy my twin," George said, still with his eyes closed. His eyes fluttered opened when Cecille whacked him hard on the shoulder.

"That's not true!" she shouted, though she was cursing herself inside because it was true. Cecille's face heated as she looked back. "What gave you that kind of an idea?"

"He was so panic when you tested our Fainting Fancy on yourself," George said as he rubbed his shoulder caringly.

"Really?"

"Gotcha," he snickered.

"I'm serious!" Cecille shouted as she raised her palms, ready to whack him again in any part of his body.

"Well, to tell the truth, you spent five minutes being unconscious even after he made you force-swallow the antidote. Fred and I only need a minute. He went all panic and he almost kissed you to wake you up-"

The image suddenly struck her mind and she needed to cover her mouth from shouting... of joy.

"_What_?!"

"Gotcha," George said triumphantly as he laughed again.

"I'm serious!" Cecille said and she whacked him on the other shoulder.

"Ow. I'm being serious too," George said and shrugged. They looked at each other for a moment before George burst out laughing like crazy banshee. Cecille knew his weakness with lying and a staring contest was always her best weapon. "Alright, alright- Ow! Enough with hitting me, Silly. Alright, he didn't kiss you. I was there too, bet he's too embarrassed to do it in front of me, right? But alright, I'll keep that quiet that you actually want it- ow!"

"Stop talking non-sense things," Cecille said, as she retrieved to her earlier position.

"You're quite red on the face by only talking about him," George sat up and gained daring to tease her. Cecille was about to whack him again when George exclaimed, "Oh, look, that's your Mr Prince Charming. Merlin, I think it's only you who think that he's more breath-taking than me- alright, alright, sorry!"

"Georgie boy," Fred called. He was walking towards them with his arm draped brotherly around Lee. Lee was waving at Cecille and George as if it was a pleasure to have them to distract him from Fred. He almost tripped down over a big pebble but he recovered immediately. "Hey, Cecille!"

"George, what were you doing? We were looking for you," asked Lee.

"Yeah, I was wondering too," said Cecille, turning to George.

"Oh, of course!" Fred said and he sat next to Cecille (_Merlin's pants,_ Cecille kept her shout in the mind). "I forgot this morning is the first day Angelina will be able to use the Quidditch Pitch."

Fred jerked his chin to the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. It was quite far from there but they still could see the three hoops on both side of the pitch and a figure that was zooming through the air on her broom. Lee whistled.

"Angelina, eh?" he asked.

"You'll want to keep that shut," George said but he shrugged anyway. Cecille smiled happily to herself as she thought of her friends. She knew that Angie fancied George since last Christmas and that Alicia had actually eyed Lee for a quite long time (though she never did admit). To see that those two boys were feeling the same way made her feel happy for her friends. With her mood enlightened, Cecille rose to her feet.

"Hey, we just arrived!" Fred said, mimicking an irritated expression as he clutched his hand to his right chest. Cecille snorted and shook her head.

"First, that face won't work on me. Second, honestly, Fred, your heart is in your left chest ("Look there, Fred being Fred," Lee snickered as Fred shifted his hand to his left chest). Third, we have Herbology first."

"Oh, like you're actually going to go to the Green House an hour before the class starts," said George.

"Yeah, I will," Cecille said and shrugged. "The benefit of coming an hour before the class starts is that no one will know that you've stolen a handful amount of dittany leaves."

* * *

Cecille was half running through the corridors, scanning her sides for the signs of her Potion Master. She hadn't seen the tip of his robe and it narrowed down the list of possible things that was happening: either Snape was still having his lunch or he was starting the class right now. The latter seemed to be the more obvious one.

The hallways was filled with bunch of juniors that seemed to be more capable to enjoy the life of a student than those who were already on their final years. They were talking, laughing, hanging with their friends as if those piles of homework were invisible to them. Cecille climbed down the stairs that led to the dungeon and found the door was closed. Damn.

Cecille knocked the door thrice and went in.

"Sorry, Professor, I'm lat-"

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Diggory, and yes, I know you're late. Now, if you please, use your brain and find your seat," Snape sneered victoriously. Cecille, sharing her five first years of her Potion education with the twins, was used to this kind of mockery. Cecille's eyes traveled through occupied seats in the class until she landed on one empty chair, next to a Hufflepuff, Alan Wainscott. Cecille huffed silently; the chair was on the first row, but she hadn't a chance. Cecille approached the boy.

"Hey, Alan," she said quickly and patted his shoulder. "May I sit here?"

"Sure, why not?" he said and gestured towards the seat. Really, some Hufflepuffs are just too kind, like her twin. They stared at each other for a moment before Snape cleared his throat in a disgusting way and made Cecille rushed to settle herself.

"Alright. I see all of you have surprised me by passing the grade," he said bitterly. "From this day forward, you will be given grades you will have received in NEWTs standards. I will give you a clear hint as to how hard your NEWTs will be. Now, let's see how much your holiday-dead brain can do for me. Open page 17. Instructions are on the books, ingredients and utensils are provided."

Students flooded the front side of the classroom, weaving through each other to grab the ingredients and special utensils. Cecille, being one of the tallest students in the class, grabbed the ingredients and utensils as her arm craned through the sea of students. Alan, either feeling reluctant to move or he didn't care of etiquette anymore, summoned the ingredients magically.

Hours of potion-brewing shrunk into stressful minutes. Everyone on the class were sighing hopelessly or groaning in depression, back to the usual atmosphere of Potion classes. Cecille herself was biting her lips so hard it should've bled by now. Her breaths were held back as she didn't want to startle the calm surface of her Potion, passion of Potion-making flowed through her veins. Her Dreamless-Sleeping Draught were glowing in a calm turquoise colour, as described in the book. She had arrived to the end of the process and all she needed to do was to maintain the heat before she would give the exemplar to Snape in flasks. She felt a warm sensation she always got whenever someone was watching. Cecille lifted her chin.

Alan was staring at her in a very strange way, like he was having an internal battle with himself to blurt out anything he had been keeping away from her. Cecille tilted her head to her side.

"Uhm, Alan," Cecille started, but she somehow lost her nerves to splutter out the fact that staring was rude. Instead, Cecille's eyes fell to his cauldron, where the calm surface of his potion was slowly turning opaque as if ice crystals were floating above it. "Your potion is freezing, do you know that?"

Something in Cecille's reaction snapped Alan from his trance. He abruptly jumped back and he averted his gaze down to his cauldron. "What- oh, lovely, _Evanesco_!"

Alan flourished his wand to empty his cauldron. Cecille watched in horror.

"You don't have to do that!" Cecille squeaked guiltily, feeling that her notification had made him to lose his mind. "It's just freezing because the fire was dying down."

"No, it just sucks and it's unacceptable," Alan said darkly. Cecille raised her eyebrows. She wasn't a close friend of Alan but she didn't remember him as a gloomy self-destructive figure.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff because your poor management, Mr Wainscott. You could've undone it by heating it, as told by Ms Diggory," Snape whispered dramatically as he glided under her robes to Alan's place. Cecille threw him a disdainful look, ignoring the credit he had given her.

"Forgive me, Sir, but he apparently just got zero for today's work and he doesn't need for another point-docking for his house!" Cecille protested. At this, Snape smirked victoriously. Cecille knew she shouldn't have taken the bait, but she couldn't always help it.

"Drop it, Cecille," Alan whispered threateningly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Ms Diggory. I don't expect anything better from you," Snape sneered and he glid down to examine other students' progress. Half of Cecille was shaking with the urge to punch her teacher, seeing the unfairness that had been rubbed on her face, but the other half of her was enjoying the certain kind of satisfaction as she noticed how Snape hadn't found anything wrong with her work.

When the time was up, Cecille submitted a flask of her work to Snape when a wild idea struck her. She stared at her bluish reflection from the surface of her remaining potion. The soft voice of her twin calling out her name was ringing in a torturing way inside her mind. She had to stop her nightmare.

Cecille conjured some flasks from the empty air, poured her potion into each of them and corked them carefully before slipping them onto her robes. Smiling sadly to herself, Cecille submitted her work to Snape and exited the grimy-aired classroom.

* * *

**A/N: **OMFR siriusly I need to stop myself from creating so many OCs here. Aw, I'm sorry! I'll try my best to use Jo's characters though, so it's not that hard to keep up. Anyway, sorry for the long delay. I'm starting my first month of Senior High School, and really, it's more frustrating and depressing than I thought (did I mention this earlier? lol).


	9. Professor Umbridge

Sequel to "More Than Just Friends". All credit to JK Rowling and my crazy brain.

**Set Aflame  
**By: Weaselle7

Chapter 9  
_Professor Umbridge_

"We can use those dittany leaves to stop the bleeding- oi!"

Fred and George, who sat across of her on the Great Hall, groaned in return. Their heads were supported by their hands, desperate for pillows, and the smell of toasts seemed to appear undetected for them. Cecille had explained them the function of the dittany leaves she had 'taken' (to say the least) from Hogwarts Greenhouse for their Nosebleed Nougats when she realized that neither of them was paying the slightest attention.

"Wha-?" George muttered.

"We know, w'know. Dittany for fiddling, or fleeting, or whatever..." Fred said, hardly aware of what he had just said. Cecille sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I stole those leaves from Greenhouse _number three_ and this is all I get," Cecille muttered dramatically before seizing two goblets of pumpkin juice and spurted the contents exactly on the twins' faces. They jolted back at the sudden contact with water and their eyes snapped open, only to let the juice washed their eyes and made them winced painfully.

"What was _that _for?!" Fred confronted, the heels of his palms brushing his eyes brutally.

"Well, I might ask you the same question as to 'what was my mission to steal a jar of dittany leaves for?' You two hardly even listen to me!" Cecille accused.

"Merlin's pants, the acid** [1]**! I'm blind!" George panicked.

"George, stop it, you're not going to be blind," Cecille told George and then turned to Fred, "and, mind you, I almost got attacked by Venomous Tentaculas!"

"But this isn't plain water. Now I need to shower _again_," said Fred lamely, avoiding her argument, as he glanced down to where the pumpkin juice had soaked his school uniform and his unmade Gryffindor tie. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, looked like he probably restrained himself from licking the fluid from his fingers and muttered silently, "Why didn't McGonagall put Umbridge on Monday afternoon so we have six instead of five free mornings?"

Cecille didn't know why she was secretly smiling. Maybe it was because she was really satisfied to completely woke the twins, maybe it was because of the utterly hilarious thought to request McGonagall to put all the twins NEWTs classes on entirely different mornings, or maybe it was because she found his childish pout really adorable-

_Snap the thing out of it_.

Cecille sighed and pulled out her wand.

"Really, next time, pay attention on classes. _Tergeo_!" The sugary liquid of juiced pumpkin left his white shirt without any trace whilst the remaining drops that stuck to his face were swept. Fred looked up to see Cecille were pointing her wand lazily at him, her eyebrows shot up in a challenging way. Fred grinned at her sheepishly.

"Thanks," he said.

"It's nothing," said Cecille modestly. For a mere second, Cecille felt like her heart had skipped a beat when her eyes connected with Fred's.

"Alright!" The two of them snapped back to see George rubbing his eyes with his knuckles violently that he looked like he had been crying. "I think I'm not blind! But if you two want me to say blind so that you can finish your snog-"

Cecille swore she would give George a few lessons and lectures later on that day. Without even letting George to finish his sentence, Cecille brought up her wand and made a jet of plain water to spurt from her wand tip non-verbally.

"Now," Cecille said loudly, with every word dripping with fake cheery tone, "the acid's gone."

* * *

"No," Cecille insisted. "I already have a long essay for Potions, _due tomorrow_. Oh, and do you remember our Herbology's homework to draw a diagram of Snargaluff Pods?!"

At this point, Fred and George gave up with the idea of pushing Cecille to help them to perfect their Nosebleed Nougats on the next day's evening. They were walking down the corridors to their DADA classroom, and even for a student that didn't usually skip classes like Cecille, it really felt her DADA class was worth skipping.

They arrived at the destined classroom and were standing right before the closed door, apparently half-wishing it hadn't started (for they had been barely two days at Hogwarts and they didn't really want a detention so early) and half-wishing it had started (so they could just skip the class). Cecille braced herself and entered the classroom, surprising the classroom in the process, which she enjoyed.

"Everyone please get back to your seats before I, Professor Umbridge-" Fred started as he poorly imitated the sickeningly sweet voice of Umbridge.

"-will give you detentions where you will be forced to wear my cardigan for twenty four hours!" George finished, making the whole classroom erupted in laughter. Fred, George and Cecille let the laughter slowly ceased as they began to search for empty seats.

The three of them landed their eyes on the two remaining seats on the hindest row of the class. Her brain numbly processed the fact that the three of them wouldn't fit there. Before she knew, her legs sprinted to the spot she was about to claim. Reaching the table, Cecille slammed her bag hard against the wooden board she wouldn't be surprised to find her ink bottles had cracked.

"I'll sit here."

"No, we will."

"One of you will sit there on the front row," Cecille snickered as she pointed to one of the remaining seats on the front row tables.

"Cecille, I am not so going to sit next to one of those dunderheads," Alicia called out from the front table, her body bent backward to face them. Turning to face the Weasley twins, Alicia pointed out, "Don't you two think I have forgotten about our little accident back to our fourth year." Cecille sighed heavily and stood up, shouldering her bag abruptly.

"You will pay for it," Cecille playfully threatened, holding back her snicker as the hilarious memory about fourteen-years-old-Alicia's jinxed paper flooded her mind. She still remembered how Fred switched the identity field of his and Alicia's pointless _mini _test of Lockhart's. Cecille was settling her bag on the floor next to her new chair when Alicia bent down and asked her in a mysteriously low voice, "Have you seen Lee?"

Cecille fought her urge to roll her eyes in front of her friend. Alicia was really acting like a desperate puppy.

"No," Cecille said truthfully.

The classroom's door was once again opened and an incredibly short figure wrapped with sickeningly fuchsia wardrobe entered. The usual chattering buzz died and soon the only thing audible was the clacking sound of the heels of the Professor's shoes. On top of the nauseating view, Umbridge cleared her throat that really sounded like a stupid raspberry-blowing once she arrived on the teacher's desk.

"Good morning, students!" Umbridge said girlishly. Cecille could've sworn it made her think the bitchiest girl in Hogwarts to appear much more macho. The class hesitated for a moment before chimed into their usual class greeting.

"Good morn-"

"Good morning students," Umbridge said in a sing-song way, demanding a quick response from the class.

"Good morning, Professor," the class answered briskly.

"Professor who?" Umbridge was making everything difficult.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," the class repeated. Umbridge cast a sickening sweet smile around the class and Cecille needed to avert her gaze to her table if she didn't want to be fed up with more nightmares that showed the woman's face. Cecille dug into her bag to get her DADA book out, mainly just to excuse herself from watching Umbridge. Other students mirrored Cecille but Umbridge startlingly cleared her throat again when most of the students were halfway bending down to retrieve their books.

"I think I haven't ordered you to open your books yet," Umbridge said, looking like she was suppressing a giggle. Cecille was grateful she didn't need to hear her giggling. Most of the students stared at her disbelievingly before putting down their books back under their chairs. Some others, though, expelled a loud groan, like Angelina.

"We will play with my rules during our classes," Umbridge declared. "Rule number one: No wands needed in the class."

Cecille would've never believed her ears if it weren't because of Angelina groaned from the table behind them, saying in a low voice, "Good Godric, I finally know why I am sent to a magical school." Truth to be told, that was the most preposterous rule a Hogwarts Professor had ever made. Weren't they to learn magic in Hogwarts after purchasing their wands at age eleven?

Some of the students, provoked by the loud laughter of Fred and George's, looked like they were overcoming the huge snicker that were fighting their way out of their lips. The others were murmuring things like, "oh Merlin, she shouldn't have said that," or "I swear, the teacher is a nutter."

But Cecille, on the other hand, were staring at Umbridge, trying not to blink, and memorizing each ounce of facial expression from Umbridge upon hearing one witty comebacks from Angelina. Priceless.

She mentally took note to congratulate her after the class.

Emily, well-known for her short temper and eagerness towards studies, snapped Umbridge dauntlessly. "But, Professor, that's ridiculous, why would we-"

"Rule number two," Umbridge continued, apparently deciding to take no notice of Angelina and Emily, "students will raise their hands if they're about to ask a question."

In less than a second, hands shot up in the air, mostly from those in Ravenclaw. But Professor Umbridge, being who she was, turned her back to the students and suddenly seemed to be highly interested on her desk, ignoring the confused students. "You can start reading chapter 1 for our first class," she said, as though those hands appeared to be invisible for her.

Emily, already scowling after being indirectly affronted, glared at Umbridge irritatingly. Angelina, probably enjoying the aftertaste of her joke, rolled her eyes tiredly. Cecille, ever so stubborn, kept her hand in the air, even after everybody else retrieved their hands back.

Umbridge smiled triumphantly and Cecille knew this was not going to be good.

"Yes, Ms...?" Umbridge prompted.

"Diggory," Cecille said and Umbridge's face lit up, like she ad been expecting to engage a conversation with Cecille for a long time. Wasting no time, Cecille rushed to the topic. "Why aren't we allowed to use wands?"

In spite of the satisfaction that was written all over her face, Umbridge tilted her head like a confused puppy, blinked twice, and uttered a sentence that came last on Cecille's list of expected response.

"You're Diggory?"

It took all of Cecille's willpower not to grab her DADA textbook and threw it square in Umbridge's face. Of course she was a Diggory, with her crystal clear resemblences with Cedric carved on every single inches of her body. And the fact that she was avoiding the topic was making her patience running thin.

"Yes," she hissed through gritted teeth, scowling.

"Yes, Professor," Umbridge giggled. Cecille let out a derisive snort.

"Surely I am not the Professor, right? Because if I am, I'd let them using magic," Cecille pointed out. Several students snickered silently, although most of them didn't take their eyes off their books. Fred and George, being who they were, snorted loudly and said, "You go girl!"

The smile on Umbridge's widened, and Cecille knew at once she shouldn't have said it.

"Aw, I think your witty comeback have resulted a point-docking for Gryffindor," she said in a poisonous voice, as though she pitied me. Only that she was supposed to dance for it. "Now, now, we must not waste time. Pip pip, go back to your books," Umbridge continued as she smiled wider, with every word dripping with nauseating tone.

Cecille heard Alicia expelling a heavy sigh from her side, her hands shot up to the air reluctantly and her face was grim. Umbridge wasn't doing her drama quite well this time, because she failed to pretend that Alicia was invisible and Cecille could catch a glimpse of Umbridge examining Alicia, right on where the Gryffindor crest was woven on her shirt. Cecille didn't really know, but she was under the impression that Umbridge would immediately respond if she saw the Slytherin crest woven on Alicia's uniform.

After a long interval, Umbridge gave up.

"Yes, Ms...?"

"Spinnet, Professor," said Alicia cooly.

"Yes, Ms Spinnet, anything you want to ask about our study?" Umbridge asked.

"Actually, it still hasn't occurred to me as to why aren't we using our wands in our classes," Alicia said, her hands still hovering in the air, perhaps to prevent Umbridge from closing the topic.

"You mean in a magical school," Angelina smugly corrected, earning a few supportive snorts.

The smile on Umbridge's face drained off. A worried expression replace it, in a way that meant she really cared about the welfare of Hogwarts, which made Cecille wanted to puke.

"Well," Umbridge started dramatically, "you see, this is the best Ministry-approved regulation the Minister has come up with, since the mishap of tragic accident-"

"What _accident_?" suddenly, Alan, burst out as he eyed Umbridge menacingly. Umbridge didn't look surprised. In fact, a devilish smile grew from her lips as though as she had expected such response.

"And you are Mr...?" she prompted.

"Wainscott," he growled. Cecille looked at him sideways, and she could tell that he was trembling with anger.

"You didn't raise your hand, Mr Wainscott," said Umbridge, looking at him with such artificial motherly expression. She then glanced to his side, where Alicia sat. "It's very observant of you to ask such question, Ms Spinnet, but, I'm afraid things in Ministry are beyond your concern. We, however, have established a lot of things-"

"Yeah, a band of imbeciles establishing lies about Voldemort not returning," Cecille muttered through her gritted teeth she didn't even realize it before Umbridge stopped talking. The sudden silence that engulfed the class was so heavy Cecille would've cowered in fear, it felt like dozen pairs of eyes were stabbing through her flesh back to her sixth year. But this was different, there was something that her heart beat faster with spirit, there was something that burnt her, a familiar feeling she got every time she was running from Filch with the twins.

That only meant that she was in trouble.

Umbridge giggled as if Cecille was a toddler that childishly rambled about grown up's things.

"Oh, but, Ms Diggory, pray tell, do you have any rights to judge the Ministry?"

"As much you shouldn't have insulted everything about my brother like a barbaric." Cecille could've sworn she didn't know where that came from. The silence crashed into the classroom once again and Cecille used the moment to recite what had she said. As the words sank deeper within her, the moisture on her eyes began to intensify and her vision became glassier.

She dared herself not to blink as her brown iris bored with hatred into Umbridge's.

"I do believe I will welcome you this evening for a detention."

* * *

As soon as Umbridge dismissed the class, Cecille rose abruptly from her seat (scaring Alicia in the process) and stormed out of the class, shoving anyone that came to her way. She rushed to the Library, splattering all of the contents of her bag and unrolled a roll of parchments. Seizing a quill and an ink bottle, Cecille began to scribble her Potions essay, focusing on her work for the sake of her sanity.

After managing to write at least five inches, Cecille straightened up, releasing a chain of cracking sound from her spines and slumped herself against her chair's back as she massaged her temples. How could've Umbridge sent her to a detention after spluttering the truth? Well, she got to admit that she shouldn't have called them 'a band of imbeciles', but really, the rest was true!

Still with troubled mind, her feet brought her out of the Library. The corridors were strangely empty. Maybe no one needed the Library so early in the term, but that didn't spike her interest. Speaking of interest, she didn't even know what she was up to. She was about to continue walking aimlessly when a series of loud laughter beat her eardrums.

From a corridor, she saw the twins laughing as they walked through the hallway. They were so preoccupied with anything they were discussing that Cecille seemed to be so distant. Unbeknownst to her, single tear welled out of her eyelids as she saw Fred and George plotting their own strategic world. She was a bit envy, yes, but she was happy to have the two of them as -ahem- _friends_.

They came to a halt upon her presence.

"Cecille," Fred breathed. He rushed to her side, slowly followed by his twin brother. He looked right through her pupils intensely. "What is it?"

She could feel her cheeks colored. Snorted dismissively, Cecille tried to cover up by saying "What was what?"

Fred ran a thumb to wipe her tear (George just really needed to look away if he weren't about to ruin the moment by bursting out laughing). In spite of several somersault done by her stomach, Cecille rolled her eyes. "I'm okay!"

"You can skip the detention," Fred said gently, every words dripping with nostalgia. "Like old times."

Cecille didn't realize how torn she was between her intentions to skip the detention or face it instead. She smiled knowingly.

"No, I have to come," she decided as she continued to walk. Fred and George followed reluctantly.

"You can't come! She's a Ministry person, she's a cow- no, a toad!" George burst out, apparently enjoying his turn to rant over their new teacher. Cecille laughed.

"No. I will come, okay? I want to show her that cowardice doesn't run in my family," she said determinedly. Silence fell above them soon afterwards. Cecille sighed as she began to play with the hem of her shirt. After a long pause, she sighed as gathered her nerves.

"Sorry," the three of them said in the same time. They looked at each other with an expression between amusement and awkwardness. They laughed afterwards.

* * *

**[1]: LOL I never eat a pumpkin (much less drinking the juiced one) so I don't know whether it's sweet like bananas or some kind of fresh and sour like oranges and apples.**

**A/N: OKAY OKAY I KNOW I AM A JERK FOR ABANDONING YOU GUYS WITHOUT MY UPDATES. UGH *joins Dobby and smacks my head with an empty bottle of Firewhiskey* But I hope the chapter's long enough for you to enjoy. School sucks, as usual, oh the daily life of mine. So, reckon I'm not going to be more jerky (is that a word? xD) by giving you a cliffie ending. So yay! :D Next chapter will be updated soon~**


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